


4 Chords of the Apocalypse

by BigSister



Series: Eda [1]
Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Slow Burn, here for a good time, no beta we write like illiterates, not a canonically accurate time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:29:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 93,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24572323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigSister/pseuds/BigSister
Summary: Turned in 1350, Eda has a lot of stories to tell.She's fought in vampire wars, pretended to be an enchanted well and (though she'd never admit it) helped create the myths of sirens. Her love for the human race has been stretched.One day in 1948 when she's wondering the forests of Philadelphia, she comes across a little vampire called Alice, and oh boy does that pixie shake things up.OrI'm obsessed with the "missing years" between Alice and Jasper meeting and finding the Cullens so I made a little thing about that but with an OC and then it kinda spiralled. The first 10 chapters do not include Jasper.
Relationships: Jasper Hale/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Eda [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809424
Comments: 154
Kudos: 219





	1. I Think Her Name Was Mary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first 10~ chapters will not include Jasper. I didn't see how I couldn't write about the 598 years before she met Jasper so if you're just here for him y'all are gonna have to hold your horses, because Eda's story began long before him

1350

A family of three are arguing in a sturdy two-story residence designed without the least imagination, built out of painted white bricks that do little to contain the squabble; baked by a hundred summers, frozen by a hundred and one winters. Despite the late hour, the Arkwright’s row might as well have been a flock of roosters.

 _It’s the third time this week,_ the neighbours will say in a minute.

 _They need to get that girl under control,_ the neighbours will say in the morning.

 _They’re not as perfect as they seem,_ the neighbours will say in the evening.

 _She never came home,_ the neighbours will say in two days time.

 _All they found were her shoes,_ the neighbours will say in a week.

 _And she was never seen again,_ the neighbours will say in a decade.

“It’s high time you got married Mary, you’re eighteen,” the designated man of the house said with a tone of finality, despite knowing he wouldn’t get the last word.

“Not to him,” Mary answered, not giving in.

“You will do as your father says,” another voice, a woman chimed.

“Or what?”

“Young lady you will do as your father says!” The woman shrieked.

The front door opened and a brunette stepped out, grumbling under her breath, “like fuck I will.”

Slamming the door behind her, she took off running, holding her dress up as she thundered down dirt roads to a house that had become her second home. It didn't take more than ten minutes to reach the tiny thatch roof hut.

Helen and Mary had been friends since they’d been children, much to her family’s dismay. Helen’s family was, to put it plainly, tremendously poor. Mary’s parents hadn’t minded when they were kids, but they looked down their noses at the friendship more as the girls grew older. They were on opposite sides of the economic scale and Mary had a habit of giving the family the gifts she received from her lavish relatives to sell. Helen’s family made their humble living selling eggs from their many many chickens at the market in town. She had three sisters and their parents worked hard to put food on the table for them, sometimes going without to provide for their brood. Somehow they all fit into the stone and wood house; Mary thought they had beds in the chicken coop on the other end of their fun-sized farm though she never brought it up.

A kind face answered her knocking, the familiar smell of thick smoke wafting out. “It’s late for you to be out by yourself Mary,” Elanor told her, raising her eyebrows. Elanor was Helen’s mother, and wore a small handmade bag of lavender around her neck. It was almost a crest, each of the family had one made by Elanor. Mary had also been given one, adding fuel to her parents reprimands.

She smiles at the woman, comforted by the all too familiar expression. “Is Helen home?”

“No dear, she’s checking on the chickens. They’re kicking up a lot of fuss tonight, just can’t get ‘em to settle. One of those nights I suppose.” The woman took in her dishevelled appearance. “What’s the matter?”

“My father and I got into another argument ab-”

She interrupted with a loud groan. “They’re not still trying to marry you off to that awful man are they?”

“They are.”

“Jesus H Christ...” Elanor muttered to herself, rubbing her hand over her face. “Your parents want a stiff talkin’ to Mary, the man’s dry as dust. My hens are better company.” Mary hummed in solemn agreement. “You’re welcome to stay the night.”

“No, I’ll be alright.” She looked unconvinced by her soft refusal. “Honestly, I’ll talk to Helen and then I’ll get straight home.” They say their goodbyes, promising to talk more in the morning, and Mary gives a cheerful wave before heading into the grass.

Elanor watches the girl take off her shoes and trudge into the night. The woman hugs herself, not liking the weighted atmosphere beyond the safety of her front door and reassures the fright simmering that all will be well at sun rise when the demons laying in wait in the shadows are cast away. She doesn’t notice that the chickens are silent as she barricades the door shut.

It’s the last time the women ever saw each other.

Mary goes into the field to find Helen with shoes in hand, ranting in her head about her parents and their unachievable goal of pushing through with their arranged marriage. She would make it her mission never to get married to such a dull slug of a boy.

They had met for the first time that morning and he had done nothing but stand like a statue, mouth wired shut and sights stuck to the floor. Not once had he met her eyes to see them roll when her attempts at conversation were met with blank unresponsiveness. She might have well been negotiating parliamentary discords with a goldfish.

On the other hand maybe she was being too harsh. People were naturally shy around fresh faces after all.

No, she decided, cutting those thoughts short. She would not settle for this foul matching.

Only then did she take note of how unnaturally quiet it was, when it was disrupted by the sound of something moving on the dry grass. “Help,” croaked a gravelly voice in the darkness. The sound made her immobile, then drew her in, irresistible.

As she inched deeper she came to an angelic looking man laying on his back. “Oh thank the stars,” he said in the same tone, otherwise unmoving. “Can you help me? I’m badly hurt.”

Instinct told her to run yet her feet brought her closer. “Where are you hurt?”

The collar of his shirt was shiny in the moon light- wet with red liquid. He seemed about middle aged and didn’t look like he belonged in the middle of a plague; didn’t have the same staggered sunken skin. Mary thought he might have been a blacksmith, or that he might scuttle like a spider instead of upright as a man. Then she remembered where she was. Why was this man in Elanor’s field?

“Have you got anything to stop the bleeding?” She didn’t move, didn’t trust this stranger laying in her friends’ field like he owned it. “Come closer girl,” he ordered, growing impatient at the lack of cooperation.

“Where are you bleeding?” She whispered, seeing that his long hands were also splattered in red.

Where was Helen?

He looked her up and down like he was translating an ancient scroll, taking in every part of her in a way that made her cringe. “Oh yes, you’ll do very nicely,” he mumbled, taking a long lick of his collar and standing as if pulled on strings. Red cats-eyes shone in the darkness, watching her. “I hope you survive this.”

Where was Helen?

Mary stumbled back and almost tripped, backing away from whatever she’d just uncovered. She had to go back to Elanor, to warn her about this.

He was on her before she even took a breath, smacking her head against a rock on the way down.

She never did find Helen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just btw, this is obviously not Alice Cullen. This is just me thinking it's funny how you never get two characters with the same name in stories


	2. Flying The Coop

Perhaps he had tackled her a little harder than necessary. She had earned a bash on her skull that’d bled a considerable amount. He couldn’t have a bleeding human around his newborns, so the chicken coop near where he’d found the girl would have to do for the night. The hens cower in the furthest corner from them, clucking in terror at the predator in the room.

He moves her in the morning when the bleeding stopped to the abandoned hut he uses for this event, the windowless one-room mud shack providing a perfect place to exploit those first few moments to control his newborns.

She doesn’t make a peep up to the second day of her transformation, then erupts in screams until she looses her voice. On the third day her throat had healed and the girl wails as the pain intensifies. He knows exactly when she’s done. One second she’s crumpled in a fetal position on the floor and the next she’s running into the wall away from him, breathing heavily and red eyed.

“Who are you?” The girl asked, struggling to focus on the man. Dust partials whirl through the air, uprooted by her movements. There’s no light sources wherever she is, but somehow she can see just fine in the purple darkness. She feels like liquid, like the ocean, even though she can’t for the life of her remember what that was. Come to think of it she can’t remember very much of anything. What was her name?

“My name is Arrius, I’m your creator. I’m here to help you.” The words are practiced, already said hundreds of times. “I know you’re scared but you have to trust me.”

“Who am I?” She grabbed at her throat expecting to find fire. “Why am I burning?” He stepped towards her and she put her hands up to stop him. Weak beams of electricity shot from her fingers, missing him by a foot. “What is happening!” She looked at her hands, feeling the static buzzing and not sure what to do about it.

“That’s your thirst. You need to feed.” A gifted vampire, completely accidental. What a magnificent creature he’d made. “I can teach you, when the sun goes down.” Arrius knew he’d become a force to be reckoned with if he played this right. “Your name is Eda.” He grinned at the little joke and she mistook it as kindness, not understanding but grimacing back at him.

It meant the spoils of war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eda does have other meanings: happy/wealthy  
> But I’m using the interpretation that says it means happy warfare/spoils of war, from the Old English name Eadgyth, meaning rich or happy, and war.


	3. Excuse Me, Have You Seen This Demon?

1410~

Far away from civilisation, surrounded by overgrown forest on all sides was an abandoned barn. It had once been a not quite thriving village but many years of hunting had long driven the humans away. But the location worked, the newborns weren’t constantly side tracked by the smell of blood. And even better, the screams of them didn’t attract unwanted attention. A short distance away was a dinky cabin designed for one, acting as a space for their leader so he wasn’t forced to interact with his army; a chore long handed off to his second in command.

The barn was a large dusty place, the wooden floor still covered with hay. It was barren apart from the twenty-something vampires inside. Usually they would be sparsely scattered around the space either alone or whispering in little groups. At the moment all but two were lined up against one of the walls, watching the scene in front of them. A male and a woman were fighting, or sparing as she called it even though everyone in the room knew every training session was risky. They were a blur as they fought, snapping and twisting around each other. Instinctual hisses and snarls were the only sounds that came from the mass.

The man was skinny, inexperienced, and no match for Eda. He hadn’t been a good fighter as a human, and was a slow learner even as an immortal. The crowd knew the woman would win, she always did. They were anxious for the end, hopeful that they wouldn’t be next to be invited into the circle and made an example of.

She curled around herself, evading his feverish hands when they darted in her direction. It wasn’t a dance, these sessions were never graceful enough to be described as that. It was more a bluffing game between a mouse and a snake. The serpent acted as if it was a mouse, so the rodent would play along and unknowingly impersonate it, as if it was a fair match. Of course this also meant that everyone but the mouse knew it was doomed. With each stuttering strike the man tried to land she would dodge, because she was the one who had taught them every move.

Eda let the newborn get close enough to bite the inside of her elbow (not caring about the pain or the deep mark it would leave) so she could retaliate and kick his chest. What was one more scar when she already had so many anyways?

She had allowed him the upper hand as a test, and he had just failed by lowering his defences the second he’d thought the possibility of a victory could be on the cards.

Growing bored now that he’d acted exactly as she knew he would, she leaped after the man still staggering back from her kick. Slipping passed his wind-milling arms and knocking his legs from under him, he was made to fall to his knees. He’d barely registered his position when her hands enclosed his head and tore it off his neck in two jerking motions.

She scanned the newborns trying to squeeze themselves into the cracks in the wood as if that would stop her from targeting them next. “Your lack of motivation is disgusting.” Even though they usually won the battles Arrius led them in, only the strongest survived to see them and they were well aware. Eda let them be for now. “Burn the body,” she told them knowing they will follow her orders, turning her back on them and leisurely exiting the barn. Two of them raced in front to throw the corpse into the fires. Behind her the crowd wheeled on themselves, attempting to mimic the actions she’d shown them.

It was almost dawn but still dark enough for her to be outside. She passed the fire-pits, the zombie-esque newborns loitering around them (who she snarled at because she could) and then the small wooden shack Arrius stayed. He didn’t show his face as she crept away into the long grass and that was permission enough so she took off running into the oak maze surrounding them.

The newborns never dared to accompany her into the woods, knew better than to intrude on the tiny bit peace she’d built.

Stepping down into a ditch as deep as she was tall, she found the stream she’d been aiming for and sighed, finally able to relax out of sight and ear shot of the barn. Knowing she didn’t have long outside, she sat cross-legged beside the current and took careful handfuls of water to clean her face.

It was a fragile environment. The water had a glassy clarity over the pebbles and palm sized waterfalls in its way. It was a small brook, so weak it rarely carried anything heavier than twigs to the pond at the bottom of the valley.

It had not been an easy sixty years. Eda had been allowed to live because of her gift, though most days she pondered letting a newborn destroy her. She had tried to escape many times during her first few years but Arrius, her creator, was always a step ahead of her, no doubt used to every trick a newborn could use. In the beginning he had only tried to keep her safe; telling her about how the sun would burn and kill her, how the world was full of armies just like his, that she was lucky he was so good natured. When she ignored his warnings things got dicey.

His favourite method of punishment was chaining her in a ball so tight she couldn’t move and leaving her to starve for weeks on end. However Arrius' favourite part was afterwards; when he would drag her out onto the battlefield, aim her at his victims and tell her there was blood inside. He would release her like an elastic band, and she'd slaughter anything that moved on the hunt for even a drop. It had taken less than eight years for Arrius to break her.

If he was considered benevolent Eda didn’t want to know the rest.

She often stood and watched the sunlight from inside the barn, wondering what it felt like.

As she washed she caught her reflection in the water and winced. She looked feral, demented, with her hair tangled and creating a mane around her head. She didn’t recognise the too familiar face with its glaring eyes, so she looked away in disgrace.

Her time in the army had not been kind, and sixty years of training newborns and fighting had left their scars. They were uncountable. The bites and claws made channels all over her body from head to toe. The sight repelled her away from her own skin. Every time another vampire would see her they would flinch. They reminded her what a disgusting creature she had become- because that was she was. Disgusting. Weak. Pathetic. 

Eda was sure she’d had sisters as a mortal, maybe a brother but she could never be sure. It was difficult to make sense of the spots of green that remained of her memories. There hadn’t been much time to think about the past when she’d been trying to survive each hour as it came, and the already unreliable images had become impossibly distorted. It was like asking a man who had been blind his whole life to describe the colour red. He could tell you about the meaning, the things that were apparently that colour and how he felt about them. But he could never understand it the way a sighted person could. Eda could remember shapes and blotches, broad details.

Like reading a book about a side character she knew a couple of abstracts. A loving community with friendly expressions on faces she couldn’t recall, a starving family with too many mouths to feed, the sound of chickens, a little house that smelt like smoke. But relating them to herself in an organised fashion seemed problematic. Were the assumptions about her mortal life correct or just a blind girl trying to make sense of pigeon scratches on a wall? Did it even matter what life had been before? Could it hold any significance who she had been more than sixty years ago?

Debatable.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw something stalking towards her, and spun around ready for an attack, finding a girl with a wet cloth in hand.

“The fuck are you doing Sara?” While she liked the whimsical girl at the end of the year she would have to be killed like the rest of the newborns, and Eda had made a good habit of not getting attached.

“You’re covered in mud,” she told Eda, putting her hand on her hip in a brave attempt at sass.

They watched each other for a stretched out minute, and again Sara approached to sit in front of her.

Eda flinched the first few times she reached out, not being able to help the conditioned response, expecting pain. But Sara just sat patiently, moving slowly, and eventually she was able to stay still enough for her to wipe her face.

Eda had questioned Arrius when he’d dumped Sara at her feet. The girl was less than fifteen and it was dangerous to have such a young immortal in their ranks. She'd been easy to handle though, too easy in fact: a pacifist unless cornered and beaten. Eda thought the newborn was kooky, a little distant, spending her free time staring into empty space daydreaming.

“I didn’t expect you to be so welcoming.” Her voice was high and wispy, the complete opposite of Eda's. 

“I am not my body child,” she scolded, flashing her teeth. The girl rolled her eyes at the harsh tone. “I am not my mind.”

Considering the tense woman, Sara dared a joke. “If I ran, how long do you think it’d take to catch me?”

“You wouldn’t get over the water before I killed you." Against her better judgement the woman closed her eyes. Secretly Eda knew she would let her go, but tried to deter the girl from the idea to avoid Arrius’ punishment when he inevitably discovered her betrayal. “And if you think otherwise you’re even more of a fool than I thought.”

Sara was unfazed by the threat and risked being ever bolder. “I’m not bitter and cold you mean, so that makes me stupid and naive?” Although Eda was the closest thing Sara had to a maternal figure right now, the newborn knew first hand how cut-throat her mentor could be and decided she had tempted fate enough. The girl stopped wiping her face and leaned back, turning her attention to the stream and grazing the surface with her finger. It felt inviting.

Opening her eyes, Eda swallowed her pride and spoke softly, “I’m sorry.” Truly she was. She didn't take pleasure in being pointlessly mean.

Sara struggled to keep her poker face. This wasn’t at all the reaction she'd been secretly apprehensive about. “Apology accepted.” Then again the girl had never seen anyone reach an olive branch towards the woman; not that she’d been watching of course.

Eda averted her eyes to the ground, itching the fresh injury on her arm and flexing her fingers, trying to get the venom moving. “What do you think it feels like?”

“What does?”

“Sunlight.” Sara gave her a surprised look, stunned at the tenderness. “Do you think it’s warm?... People always say it’s warm.” The bite would leave a nasty mark, though it would blend with the others seamlessly.

“I suppose it’s warm. Arrius does a pretty good job of keeping us out of it so I haven’t felt it since- you know...” She laughed, then looked at Eda seriously when the newborn saw how closely she had been listening. “Don’t you remember?”

She frowned. “I don’t remember much of anything before Arrius, do you?”

The newborn filed through her memories. “I can recall my parent’s faces…” It was impossible to know what had been forgotten but there weren’t any gaping holes as far as she could tell. “I know how it ended, how Arrius chased me down and bit me, dragged me away into the mud room.”

Amazed at even this information, Eda thought hard to when she was mortal only to hit dead-ends. Pain then the shack. Pain then Arrius. Pain then the army. Every avenue stopped at the transformation. “I didn’t even know my name when I woke up... I thought that was normal.”

Obviously it wasn’t from the stare Sara was giving her. “So where did Eda come from then?”

And now it seemed silly that she had listened to him blindly. "Arrius told me that was my name.” It tasted like the tip of a lie when there was nothing else to go on.

“Haven’t you talked to someone about this before?” The others had told Sara that Eda had already been there when they woke up. None of the newborns knew exactly how old she was, they’d all been turned around the same time less than a year ago.

“I haven’t spoken to anyone about anything apart from war and strategy for sixty years, so no.”

Almost not believing her ears, Sara couldn’t stop herself muttering, "you've been alone, all those years?..."

Eda blinked at her concern. Having a newborn of all people showing mercy just about tipped her world off its axis. She was far from humane when training them, taking every opportunity to display her dominance and using each fight to humiliate them all in turn. In her experience fear worked as a much more efficient incentive than friendship. "That's just the way things have to be." Then again Arrius had never let her use anything other than fear to control them.

"But you deserve happiness," Sara insisted.

There had to be an underlying reason for this, some hidden agenda. “What is it you want?” No one was charitable in the army out of the goodness of their own heart- especially not to Eda.

“I don't understand miss?”

Maybe she wanted to distract Eda long enough to escape. “Why are you being so nice to me?” Maybe she was the bait to allow the rest to run. Maybe they were surrounded. Maybe Arrius had decided she wasn't useful anymore. Maybe this was an ambush. Maybe-

“Every person deserves kindness,” Sara spoke as if explaining something to a child. There was no hesitation, sincere, and for some reason that was worse. “Even you.” Eda was used to aggression and plotting, but this… this was alien. This was not how her universe functioned.

On the inside she squirmed at the compassion. It made her sad in a way she couldn't articulate and hurt her insides. “We’re not people Sara. We’re vampires, remember?"

“Apart from the diet what’s the difference?” She smiled sweetly, going back to playing in the water, so sure that Eda wouldn’t take advantage. “You still have feelings, wants, needs. You deserve better than this.”

“I’m a monster... I’ve killed hundreds,” she reminded her.

“But what have you done since? What will you do now?” Eda stared wide eyed at her though Sara didn't take any notice, too occupied examining a algae covered rock that was shiny black underneath. “Fighting isn’t in your nature. If it was you wouldn’t have let me get so close.” She was edging on smug.

Eda shook her head, thinking about the hunt she’d led the newborns on just yesterday; how they'd emptied a whole village. “I’ll try and remember that next time I murder someone.”

“People do bad things when they’re trying to survive,” she reasoned again, smiling to herself.

Eda considered Sara’s words for a long while, allowing herself to roll them over in her head before standing. Dawn was going to break soon and they didn’t want to be out when it did. Despite how silly the newborns’ speech seemed she knew it was her responsibility to keep Sara safe. At least until the next battle. “You have much to learn.”

“As do you.” The girl joined her in walking back to the barn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just by the way, Sara is pronounced the same as Sarah


	4. Thanks For The Trauma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW- sexual assault and implied rape  
> Dead dove do not eat. Seriously, this is dark

The newborns were enjoying a rare down time Eda had given to them, mumbling to each other or sitting in the corners of the barn. Most were outside though, looking to the stars or planning an escape.

Eda didn’t care, too bored with their tantrums after training them all day, and knowing she would simply burn them if they dared run. However she couldn’t let them go unsupervised, and sat against the outside walls to monitor their roaming through the long grass. It was tall enough that one could sit within and become tiny in comparison, but the tree line encompassing the field was on higher ground so none could enter unseen.

She made no move to smile as one popped out of the grass to prank another, instead hissed loudly at the pair to halt their games. They did, looking away in fright and sinking silently to hide from her predatory glare.

Eda was making a point of ignoring Sara’s staring eyes poking through the weeds. They glowed in spite of the darkness, but Eda was determined to brush her off though she knew her efforts were failing.

Sara had only continued her pursuit of friendship, never deterred by the rebuffs or dismissals. Most baffling was that at some point Eda had stopped pushing her away, and permitted the girl to sit sometimes within arms reach. She talked infinity, at least it seemed like it to Eda, quizzing and spinning myths and legends. Eda told her quietly about the creatures she had seen, liking the mystified expressions that met her tales of werewolves and witches. In the beginning it was an attempt at scaring her but then it became habit, and she now looked forward to their conversations. Secretly she liked it most when Sara would sing nursery rhythms, once finding herself joining in despite not being able to remember ever hearing the song before.

They understood it was dangerous to show this favouritism when they weren’t alone. The many sharp eyes of the newborns watched Eda endlessly, as if they were waiting for something. Whether they expected a surprise attack to teach vigilance or wanted to peek to see if she really was alive, Eda didn’t know- didn’t care enough to know. While bonds could be made between the newborns (so long as they weren’t annoying or sneaky) Eda was not allowed to do so; only supposed to watch as nameless faces passed her by.

“Eda,” Arrius called in a casual tone from his cabin, but Eda could read between the lines even over the sound of the snarling within the barn: it was time to plot, to map the next battle. Wordlessly standing, she runs towards the sound because Arrius did not wait, and doesn’t acknowledge Sara peering after her.

Eda entered the cabin, shutting the door just as he liked, and stood in the centre of the room.

The space was damp, resembling a tomb. It was void of furniture, designed for shelter and to keep the newborns out rather than comfort. Eda kept her eyes locked on the wall in front of her, waiting. Always waiting. Her life was just periods of waiting, interrupted by momentary action then a return to the waiting. It was monotonous, and if she wasn’t in the presence of Arrius she would have been rolling her eyes at her own dramatic thoughts.

“I am going to lead the newborns East in the coming days.” The statement was a half lie: he did not lead anyone. He stayed behind and watched. Nevertheless, Eda doesn’t outwardly react, instead thinking over strategy and which newborns would need more lessons. “They are a considerably strong foe, but I know I can relay on you, my sweet, to teach the soldiers well.” Arrius crept behind her, and she was thankful she'd stopped trembling long ago as he left her sight. “You have yet to disappoint me in many decades.”

A heavy hand landed on her shoulder and moved to wrap around her throat. It stroked the lines and bites, scratching at any he can work his nail into. He picked at her skin thoughtfully, scraping away at her before rubbing over the spot as if to sooth. She does not slap him away no matter how much she wanted to.

Arrius drew back her hair with his other hand, revealing a thick ring of scar tissue at the back of her neck; an exact impression of his own teeth. He had done it in a permanent sign of ownership during her first decade, stayed still whilst sunken into her flesh, pinning her to the very floor she was presently standing on to ensure she understood. The mark had fizzed he'd held her so long and she had cried out in agony, not that her suffering had stopped him, before or since.

“I miss the way you once screamed,” he growled in her ear, so close she can feel his breath. “How I wish you would do it again.” Slowly, she could feel him open his lips against the back of her neck, the teeth that replaced them. Arrius did not bite today, just hovered to remind her that he could if he wanted, trying to get a reaction out of her. The only one he got was Eda holding her breath, though even this was subtle as to not encourage him.

Arrius was passed becoming angry at her lack of responses to his advances, and a wide tongue licked the arch before reluctantly retracting. The swipe was meant as a romantic gesture, one of passion. Eda could feel the possessive intent.

His hand went to her jaw and pulled up so Eda was made to reveal her throat in forced submission, pushing her head into his shoulder. What she would give to close her eyes, but she wasn't allowed. The first (and last) time she'd done it he'd peeled off her eyelids, and she wouldn't make that mistake again.

Instead Eda was made to stare on as he looked her dead in the eye, and did whatever he wanted. No one would stop him. No one wanted to rescue her for fear they'd be next, and because Eda knew no one cared. The only exception might have been Sara, and she was a child who didn't understand what was happening. So she was left at Arrius' mercy, and mercy didn't know Eda's name.

He squeezed her cheeks to make her mouth open against her will, and reached inside to caress two fingers from as far as he could get down her throat to the tip of her tongue, then along the perfect bottom row of fangs. One of the curses of vampirism: no gag reflex to protect against the fingers invading her body, claiming it and her as his, mocking her for ever thinking otherwise. Confident that Eda won’t defend herself, his thumb stretched her mouth wider as it joined inside to start wiggling her molars, taunting her with the idea that he just might take them out.

“What a delectable mortal you were,” he thought aloud, not caring if she heard. “It’s a god send I did not consume you.”

Eda disagreed. She doesn’t believe in a god, though a devil seems a possibility. What was a devil without Hell after all?

He shoved her to the ground, tired of foreplay. She let him, lay where she landed on the stained floor and waited for it to be over.

Eda wasn’t allowed to tell him no.

No was met with punishment, though if that was worse than this she couldn’t tell. The memories of having her arms and legs torn off and used as a door stop weren't so bad compared to this. If she was just a torso with a hole to fuck at least then she would have some excuse as to why she had given up trying to fight against him other than her own cowardice, her own patheticness. She was afraid, and she only had herself to blame for still being in this inescapable position.

Eda wishes for death. It never comes.


	5. Burn, Pillage, Burn, Invade

Arrius leads them into battle, or rather takes them into unfamiliar territory and wordlessly leaves the newborns in Eda's care. It's not a surprise, merely a sign to her that they're getting close. He'll watch from above somewhere out the way but he hasn't been involved in a battle for many years; hadn't needed to with his attack dog on the case. It doesn't disrupt Eda's marching at the front of the hoard and though some of the newborns become skittish at his absence, thinking it might be a sign that he knows they’re done for, none try to follow him. No matter how high the chances are that the newborns will die in battle, they have a better chance of survival not running. Arrius is not forgiving to deserters.

The newborns are spread out behind her, and their spitting and snarling will inevitably give them away. They jog beside their friends, the only reassurance that can ever be found in situations such as these. Most trail after their lieutenant alone though, anxious of what's to come.

The camp Arrius has lead them to is not as large as his, not as well trained, but fresher turned. Of course the newborns are too loud to ever give them the element of surprise, so the two armies clash as soon as they caught sight of each other in the clearing. Fireworks shoot from Eda's fingertips, acting as a distraction so her newborns had a better chance of gaining an early upper hand. Regardless of how well she'd trained them they were newborns at the end of the day, and could only be taught so much strategy before instincts took over.

She prefers not to use her power though, and while it weighs heavy on her soul, Eda cannot deny that this is where she feels alive. Knocking an enemy's head off with one smooth motion brings her a sense of belonging. It's not joy (she isn't sadistic enough for that) but closer to satisfaction. Her kills are quick and relatively painless so the fight can be over soon. Serving her use, the reason for her extended existence. Shredding her opponents apart limb from limb is the only thing she understands, but it’s ok because that's what she’s good at.

It's impossible to say that this isn't also boring to her though. Sixty years of endless battle meant she knew a newborn would only attack in three different ways. Usually they'd come at her teeth first, swinging their head like a ball on a string. They didn't have the common sense to defend themselves at the same time so it was always a quick win. Sometimes they would fight like a human, throwing punches and kicks, dodging and weaving. This was only interesting if they had been good at it as a mortal though, and most weren't. Not as good as Eda was now anyway. A rare but no less amusing tactic was when they would jump at her, throwing their whole self at her in an attempted body slam. She liked that one best because it looked funny. It was easily countered by simply sidestepping and decapitating the vampire cannon balls before they landed.

They win with minimal looses, nothing that can't be replaced in days, and after burning the bodies they head back to base with a new piece of territory under their belts.

A scowling Arrius joins them with Sara in tow, dragging her along the ground by an arm. Within the chaos, Eda learns that Sara had tried to run away from the fighting. She'd been caught by Arrius in minutes.

Eda didn't know why he hadn't killed her on sight like he usually did to deserters. Maybe he wanted to make an example of her. She didn’t look forward to that, having grown to tolerate the curious girls’ unassuming pluckiness. In the corner of her mind Eda knew Sara only had a maximum of six months left in the army, that she shouldn’t be getting attached to a girl with an expiration date.


	6. Deliverance

It’s sunrise and the whole army was in the barn talking over the nights win and what’s next, already preparing for the battle Arrius was planning on leading them in the following week. The newborns are split into two groups to keep them from getting too carried away, one half sparing with each other (not too shabby, but still not excellent). The second half were talking quietly amongst themselves in small groups.

Eda’s keeping to herself in the rafters, reviewing the brawl to analyse her newborns’ weaknesses and to think about what she would need to teach them before their next outing. She watched them absent-mindedly as they squabble between themselves, still high on their victory and boasting their kills.

There was little privacy in the barn, the old horse stable boxes were the only places people could go to be away from the others. It was only visually but it made a big difference. Eda didn’t have the time to be in them much, too busy training the newborns and keeping the peace. She also had her own spot at the stream so she could usually hold out until night time to go there. It was the only kindness she could give them, though they’d never know it was intentional. The first year was the hardest for their kind, everything was always so intense that the stable boxes were sometimes the only things keeping them from running into the sunlight to end it all.

Distantly she recognised Arrius entering one, lugging Sara with him. It didn’t surprise Eda. Sara’s soft nature and her dislike of fighting made her the usual target for Arrius’ nagging, but tonight a line had been crossed and she’d made a run for it. Reckless, yet Eda understood perfectly: she’d done the exact same thing dozens of times.

Sucked into memory of keeping Arrius so busy he’d gotten a chunk bitten out of his neck over fifty years ago, the stable box door slamming open was almost lost on her.

“Get away from me!” The voice caught Eda’s attention and she almost growled at what she saw.

Sara, fanciful Sara, was attempting to bulldoze Arrius away from her and out of the horse box. She was standing her ground, squaring her shoulders to ram him again. She looked insane; clothes ripped in odd places, her hair ruffled and sticking up at sharp angles. Her usually stainless features were twisted into a hateful snarl at him. Arrius was equally unkempt, his pants too low and his shirt too high.

Eda’s beside them in the same second. “What’s going on?” She demands more to herself, not wanting to apply what she thinks has happened to Sara.

The girl stares into her eyes, desperate for her to take this opportunity, vowing to keep him busy. “Run.”

Arrius’ act of pretending to have been stopped in the middle of a joke was transparent to Eda. “Ah my sweet, kill the traitor for me.” His voice is thick with desire. Eda doesn’t want to think about the reasons for this.

“Run,” Sara tells her again, louder.

“No," Eda whispers at him at the same time. Her sanity could survive being Arrius’ punching bag, she had learnt how to cling to the darkest corners of her mind and pretend it wasn’t real. But to see it happening again with another; someone younger, smaller, more vulnerable than her. She would not allow it. 

Arrius’ head spun to her, shock flashing on his face before it was hidden beneath insidious anger. “What?” He dared her to repeat it. “What did you say?”

Eda was equally shaken, suddenly overwhelmed with what she’d said. Never in her sixty-something years had she ever told Arrius no. The word tastes new, exciting, liberating. So she says it again. “I said no.” It felt good. She was so exhausted by the constant war, the endless loop had driven her into a pit that'd just been opened. She wasn’t going to be his attack dog anymore. She wasn’t going to allow herself to be wound up, aimed and fired like a rifle anymore. “No more.” Rebellion was a thrilling, intoxicating sensation. It pulsed inside her mind unbearably loud and calling to be acted upon. She would not be hounded by this tyrant any longer.

He backhanded her, a display meant for the newborns watching. "You would oppose me girl?" Eda’s head sprang back to face him with narrowed eyes, secure in the belief in what needed to be done. "You are nothing. You will die without my leadership."

“We both know that isn't true." Her fingers become sparklers, sizzling the air. "I can fend for myself.”

“Everything you have is because of me, my kindness, my love. You only learnt to do that because of me.”

“No....I learnt to do that in spite of you.” She pounces, her body and mind in sync with what she’s about to do, confident that her conscience will survive this one last outburst of violence. This was the end of Arrius using her as a weapon to be controlled and manipulated.

Even if he had been expecting her attack, wrath drove her at full tilt. The height difference mattered little, her fury almost made her grow as she caught him by the neck like a rag-doll, and the pair locked eyes momentarily to communicate an unspoken promise. He could only stare on helplessly when she threw him to the ground with enough force to break the wooden floor and shake dust from the ceiling. Vines of live wires blur as a shadow behind her.

Arrius lands on his back in the fresh ditch, out of practice and regretting not at least paying attention to the untold times his prodigy had trained his own newborns. If he had been able to do anything about it he would be on the warpath for those said newborns, who were currently huddled together as far away as they could get inside the barn. They were understandably petrified to see Arrius, a man they had all seen as formidable bully be overpowered. They crossed their fingers that this rampage would not extend to them. Even Sara had joined the cluster.

Rooting her foot in Arrius’ stomach, Eda split his leg from the hip and repeats her action with the other.

She releases the thrashing man before he can claw at her calf and prepares for him to leap at her. However she’d forgotten one thing: Arrius was a coward.

Instead of coming at Eda he crawled like a cockroach towards the double doors of the barn, dragging himself on his front by his arms. Eda creeps after him, not at all finished.

She’s at ease with herself to follow him though, proud of standing up to her creator and inflicting so much dread that the only viable option in his mind was to commit suicide by going out into the sunlight. Eda trails him because war was the sole purpose for a vampire, and she refused to fall victim to another dictator like Arrius who would exploit her gift to cause pain and death.

Resolute in getting out of this life, one way or another, she’s calm as Arrius bursts one of the doors open so hard it banged against the wall.

Sunlight exploded into the barn to explore the space it had been guarded against for so long, dancing and sparkling in the air like a happy spirit, sending actual shadows spiralling behind her.

The world beyond is unrecognisable in colours other than purple, alive with greens and blues and oranges and pinks and reds. It shimmers and sways, blending but individual. More shades of pigmentation than she thought possible. Beautiful. It would have brought her to tears if she could weep. This had to be heaven. She could see herself being at peace here wherever she was. She needed to go and explore, to see what had been missed. The trees in the distance serenaded her, waving in greeting as if Eda was an old friend.

But then she realised she’s still alive (kinda), watching Arrius heave himself through the weeds, truly embodying a rat as he scampers away while she's hypnotized. 

“Lair,” Eda scoffed, stepping out into the light and gasping as her skin – her revolting, shameful, foul skin – positively glistened like diamonds. It was not an illusion as she turned her hand in front of her face. For the first time she saw passed the scars and stared at the otherworldly wonder that was unbelievably her. 

He had denied her this bewitching sight. It went against god himself to hide this glorious vision. Arrius had to be punished. He would pay for what he’d stolen, the joy he’d kept her from for all the life she could remember.

She had been an idiot to listen to the first man she’d met. “LAIR!” Eda roared, shoving the remaining closed door and disregarding the way it flew off its hinges in a blaze, stalking after him into the pasture, slow in her approach to savour the sinister obligation to avenge all she’s lost.

Coming up behind him, she snatched a fist full of his hair to rein him in. Arrius cries out at the buzzing tendrils scorching his brain, though it’s muffled by Eda’s hand being inserted into the open space as she digs her nails into the roof of his mouth for leverage.

He latches onto the soil, crumbling it as she moves her other hand to push the palm into his bottom jaw, both knowing what will come next.

They look into each others eyes in an almost mockingly romantic intensity. Arrius’ fate had been sealed the second he'd bitten her.

The corpse flops to the earth unceremoniously in two pieces, smoking and frazzled.

Sara quietly helped her build the bomb fire, not too subtly kicking the half-head on the way and stood by Eda to watch the flames. She doesn’t flinch as Sara wraps an arm around her back, and instead held the little hand to her side. There is no need for aggression now that the beast had been defeated.

Sara had been telling the truth: sun light was warm. Eda hadn’t felt anything but fire that was so hot and takes great comfort in soaking it up.

Behind them the newborns are departing in drips, some bolting and some tiptoeing. A couple eye Eda as if she isn’t letting them go, as if she was the same as Arrius, and not another hostage just like they were. She ignores them. One or two stay in the darkest corner of the barn still in shock at what’s unfolded, not knowing what to do. She ignores them as well. Most leave with mutual respect, silently acknowledging the woman who freed them.

“At last viper you cease to hiss,” Sara said, and spat into the smouldering ashes that remained of their warden, pleased karma was in working order even with the undead.

Eda rolled her eyes at Sara’s dramatic declaration. “Poetic.”

Yet somewhere there’s hope: if Arrius had been lying about the sun what else had he lied about? She wasn’t even sure her name was Eda or just another tug on the leash that had been put on her. But maybe the world wasn’t really full of vampire wars. Maybe, if she was lucky, there could be a bigger fragment of safety than the diminutive stream she’d clung to.

It’s mid day when Sara nudges her; the fire now dead and Arrius nothing but ashes on the wind. “Come on, we have much to see.” Nodding slightly, Eda allows herself to be withdrawn towards the thicket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so satisfying to write


	7. Life Away

The extent of what Arrius did to Eda only became obvious after they get her away from him. Sara had thought she’d had it bad in that madness, that war, that chaos. But she didn’t live it for 61 years. Eda (because now they’re slowly discovering who she really is) spent all the life she'd ever known surrounded by the rage, thirst and rabid _need_ of hundreds of newborns, subject to Arrius’ sick desires and pleasures. She’d had to evolve and change, barricade herself away and do what she could to survive.

But slowly, painfully, all those foreign pieces start dropping away like splinters and underneath… well, Sara’s fairly certain that the person she’s just beginning to re-met is the same girl who got murdered for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

It’s fucking horrific to watch is what it is. 

To Eda, people not knowing who she is means she’s done as close to a good job as can be considered. Even the newborns who she had trained for months only really see her after they pass. The new and relatively mellow looking Eda doesn’t even appear to be the same person. On the very rare occasion that someone does recognise her, they either give her a wide berth or try to pick a fight (which always results in them in the fire).

She flinches whenever someone comes too close or talks too loud, and mirrors their actions when they first see her scars and recoil. She steals some elbow length gloves from a human and doesn’t take them off for months, anything to lessen the reactions her skin gets; anything to stop reminding her of the leviathan Eda thinks herself as. Sara tries to convince her otherwise at every turn, but she doesn’t know how to steep the self loathing she sinks into in those quiet moments when there’s nothing else to do but remember. 

Admittedly there are upsides to this freedom though, besides the obvious. They’re not fighting for their lives and the company is good. They’re free to play for the first time in clear memory. Sara makes it her mission to make Eda laugh and briefly pulls her out of her funks to push them towards all the things in life they’ve never experienced. They celebrate the new year together, and hunt from dusk to dawn that night. It signals six months away from Arrius; and the completion of Sara’s first year of vampire life. 

Eda spends many days basking in the sun light, soaking up the warmth she was denied, beginning a unbreakable routine of watching it rise every morning. Not even the snow can stop her from making up for lost time. She likes to stay within nature rather than around humans. It’s not that she dislikes the diet, the taste of blood and the rush of the chase is a comforting constant in her life. But sometimes it takes her back to the way things used to be. Sometimes she forgets that she’s hunting a human and not an enemy newborn, and bolts instead of pouncing.   
  
Once, after Sara pulls off a spectacular act of shenanigans and sheer stupidity, the pair bounce off each other, laughing so hard they would be crying if they were human. Eda tries (and fails) many times to speak through it, and each attempt just lands them deeper in hysterics. 

She learns to live, to do more than survive. She learns to love humans through watching Sara interact with them, and is amazed at how well the girl makes friendly conversation with the mortals. She doesn't relate to them the same way Sara can, though over time those funny endearing folk become interesting and she thinks this is how people watch puppies. She gets it. She learns how to smile.

Sara likes to think she taught Eda that.

It doesn’t last. 

Nomads and the bitter newborns Eda taught still come to pick fights with her, looking for triumph or an end. It doesn’t matter: they all end up as ashes whatever their reason. Those times feel like tiny victories to Eda, tying up the loose threads Arrius has left throughout her life. She’s unbalanced and filled with self loathing that only grows with every death she causes, her love for humans becoming a new source of self-destructive behaviour. She’s playing a game of tug of war with wanting to abandon her old life to live with Sara, and giving in to settling back into the way it used to be with a new army of her own making. It was easier when she was at war, Eda thinks some days, compared this limbo anyway. At least then she knew exactly where she stood with life.

Sara still plays her pranks and tries to persuade Eda to let her hug her with all of her strength, and Eda manages to keep laughing even though she’s sinking because they both know it’s an honour to be as free as they are. 

But sometimes Eda just stops feeding and goes unnervingly still, letting her eyes grow darker than they’d ever willingly been at war when she’d had to feed the newborns at a minimum of four times a week. She lets her thirst make her almost insane until she finds herself covered in blood in the dead of night and every time it happens it reminds her too much of Arrius’ punishments. She gets through those moods though, because it’s not a bad existence with her little personal sun beside her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Sara so much.


	8. Maternal Eternal Demonic Sister Mine

1411

They’re skipping through the woods like demonic sisters, covered in blood and freshly fed. The pair are still full of feverish delight at the almost year old realisation of what exactly it means to be completely free. It was a cloudy day, so disappointingly the girls weren’t in their shining best. The woods were a place of tall trees and fallen leaves, where they could roam freely and without interruption. The overgrown grass bobs in the wind, and the animals awaken and scatter as their instincts scream at them there’s predators near by.

Lucky for the birds, the vampires are uninterested in eating them. "Please... I wish to laugh again," Eda choked through giggles.

"You can't kill me! God wants me alive!” Sara said gruffly, impersonating the man they’d just feasted on. “And I said,” she cut herself off, breathing deep and swallowing to keep her voice coherent. “If God wanted you alive, he would not have created me!" They exploded in laughter again, Eda bending back and gripping the girl's shoulder to keep herself upright.

The pair had been quite theatrical in their most recent hunt, taunting a priest in his own church for days before putting him out of his misery. They had managed to convince him they were angels who had come to punish him, preforming miracles for him. At first he was sure they were possessed, what with their red eyes, but he hadn’t been able to resist Sara’s merriness or Eda's beauty. Sara didn’t mind torturing the man during his last days: Eda’d specifically targetted him for his crimes and Sara had been able to put aside her love for the mortals.

Eda pointed to her friends' ruined dress. "Are you planning on finishing that any time soon?" They had stolen a pair of white linen kirtle gowns from a village of peasants, quite scandalous for the times even though only their hands and heads were uncovered. There was no reason to uphold the human fashion of wearing multiple layers around each other.

Sara’s gown was baggy on her thin frame, and dragged on the ground meaning she’d stepped on the bottom and ripped the hem. "I don't know, are you planning on not distracting me and leaving so I can get it done?" She tried poking her side, though Eda bounced out of the way. "You're the reason we're in this mess to begin with, so I don't want to hear any more of your so called great ideas." Sara ghosted after her, but still unable to catch the woman as she hopped over rocks and around trees.

“I do actually have a great idea.”

Sighing, Sara played along and slowed. “Go on?”

“It involves fire,” Eda warned, knowing she wouldn’t like it.

“Absolutely not!” She fussed, picking up the ragged ends of her dress as if to defend it from her attacks. “I love this dress.”

“Now listen child, I may not remember a lot of things...” She trailed off, stopping to pick some of the wild pink flowers from the soil and gazing at their puffy petals. They were so small and soft, the vibrancy of colours in the world were still amazing to her even after so long. Unsurprisingly that also meant pesky invasive weeds like this were a wonder. She smiled, she would never be denied these simple pleasures ever again.

Sara waited, half smirking when Eda didn’t look at her and just continued strolling while examining her flowers. “But?” She asked, catching up and walking beside her.

Eda appeared surprised when she prompted her, and asked sweetly, “but what?” She stopped and caught Sara’s elbow to pull her close so she could braid the flowers into the girl's hair.

Sara let her do it, liking these rare childish moments Eda engaged in once in a blue moon. She stayed completely still as to not spook the woman, like you’d do with a horse who’d just began to be brave enough to eat sugar cubes from your hand. “Are you going to elaborate on that?” Though that didn’t really fit, because in this case the horse would be gifting Sara with the sugar cubes and that was just too silly even for Sara to think about. _Because_ , Sara thought to herself, _where would the horse keep those sugar cubes_ _if not in his pockets?_

“Mmmm…” Eda pretended to contemplate her words and stepped away to admire the pink crown she’d made on the girls head, nodding to herself at a job well done. Sara leaned closer in anticipation of a snippet of advice. “No. I don’t think I will.”

Sara groaned and twirled away, rolling her eyes. "You make everything so much harder than it has to be." She patted the flowers in her hair to feel the delicate nest the woman had made.

"I know, I've been told it's a special talent of mine.” Sara just rolled her eyes again. “Do you know how difficult it is to be so charming and witty all the time?” Eda chased after her, dancing between trees at a dizzying speed to jump in front.

"Leave the dangerous antics to me.” Sara flexed her fists in mock aggression, prancing ahead through the long grass. Eda snickered at her loose swings, trying to see the little girl as the humans did: terrifying and somehow intimidating. She just couldn’t. Even though she’d seen her kill many times, the images didn’t blend cohesively with the girl currently daring a tree for a fight. Sara turned back to her. "What's so funny? My ass hanging out or something?"

"No, I've seen enough of that it's not funny anymore."

"Oh fuck off.” They stifle their giggling. Sara had recently began to copy her swearing and each time Eda found it ridiculous. Sara throws a hand full of grass, running backwards away from Eda and sticking out her tongue.

Eda’s about to shadow when she hears a pair of vampires approaching and stops, spotting two strangers in the distance behind Sara. A man and a woman, both with hesitant yet friendly expressions.

Meeting new vampires was a stressful event for everyone involved, both sides waiting for each other to challenge and try to claim the territory even on neutral ground.

The man was tall with thick brown curly hair, and beside him Eda found his opposite in the woman. She was slender and her long blonde hair swayed as they meandered towards them. They looked like the picture of good honest Christians, the same kind faces young nuns had when they first entered their monastery. Eda and the woman looked at each other and the stranger gave a shy wave.

“Good evening ladies!” The man shouted to them unnecessarily, seemingly enjoying the small human act.

“Good evening!” Sara greets at an equally loud volume automatically before turning to see who was calling to them.

Neither of them hear the sound of rapid footsteps running towards them from behind over her cheering, both lowering their defences at the friendly voices and nonthreatening displays.

Which is why seeing Sara’s head detach came to such a shock.

The peace shatters at Eda’s feet when Sara’s head lands in the dirt, frowning down at it and unable to process what’s just happened. Finally she reacts, screaming when the head is suddenly on fire. Sara’s expression is smiling, even as her head is becoming ash. As her face disintegrated it revealed an arrow also on fire sticking out of the soil beside it.

Eda doesn’t know when she fell back, shaking and torn between turning tail and cradling the head to join the burning.

She’s hyperventilating, staring wide eyed at the corpse of her friend and beginning to push herself away from the flames.

So this was grief, she realises as her chest struggles to find breath it doesn’t need. Maybe this was what dying felt like. Her head was on a pivot as it replayed the sight of Sara’s being knocked off her shoulders, of it bouncing slightly on the ground, when it caught fire.

This wasn’t meant to happen. How did this happen? Why? Who caused it?

“Safe travels,” a new male voice whispers somewhere in the direction Eda had seen the couple, and she looks towards it.

There's a new man, blonde like the woman, pointing an arrow at her. Its tip is alight.

He did it.

Thick ropes of electricity snake around her hands, and the air is alive as her shape is consumed by white chains. They send pops and sparks around her, the glare is almost blinding.

Eda slings herself at him, unleashing all the emotions evolving inside and directing them into shredding the man’s head. Chunks of him fly like feathers, and it's raining smoking coals of vampire.

She sets after the dark haired man once the body drops, not caring to question if they were working together when he looks on in torment instead of fear. He staggers as Eda claws at his face, leaving shivering tentacles whipping at the skin.

The blonde woman was too stunned to move.

The trio had been following the girls for hours, waiting for an opportunity to ambush them. At first they had thought they were newborns from the way they used every moment to explore and play. But it was obvious they were too in their own minds for that to be true. Then when the winds had changed and they had both been distracted, the three had striked.

Her lover manages to clamp onto Eda's wrist, ripping the glove and revealing the scars underneath. He doesn’t have the chance to respond to them before his head is tossed away.

The attack on the trio has lasted only seconds, and Eda is already turning to the blonde who shrank back at the feral snarling sent her way. Lightning sprays from her hands, burning the grass and setting fires all around. There would be a baseball field of markers in the ground when this was finished.

Eda jumps and grabs at the woman, plugging her fingers through the eye sockets like a bowling ball to drag her to her knees. The woman can't think as a thousand volts are sent into her skull, razzing her brain over and over as it heals itself only to be fried again.

“What do you want with us?” The blonde doesn’t answer, so she puts her hands at the woman’s temples, flicking away the eyeballs which came with their removal, and squeezes. “Who are you?”

“We’re- nomads!” She squeezed again, and cracks appear along the woman’s forehead. “I’m sorry! We thought-”

Her own shrieks interrupt the speech, her head caged by a rattling dome of bolts.

“You were working together weren’t you?” Eda retracts her power to allow the woman to answer. 

“Yes! But we didn’t know!”

“Didn’t know what?”

“Please,” the woman begged. “We were just having fun.”

“Just having fun?” She tried to nod her head inside of Eda’s vice hold. “You murdered Sara because it was fun?” Eda could feel the tears building, though they would never fall. This was too much.

“We’re vampires you mangled bitch!” Seeing there was no way out of this, the woman released her desperate anger, spitting and flashing her teeth. “This is what we do. You really want to hear it? We thought you and your child were just a couple of newborns, easy pickings! Vampires were made to destroy- but by the looks of it you know all about that. Killing me won’t bring your girl back. She’s burning in Hell as we speak- getting FUCKED by Lucifer hi-”

Not being able to bare another word out of her mouth, Eda crushed her skull.

The ranting stopped, and Eda was left alone.

For the first time she is completely, utterly alone. She had nothing and no one to return to, no defined destination, no anchor. No one was expecting her, and no one was going to come in search of her. No one truly knew Eda even existed. Was she really there at all?

Knowing what she had to do she piles the strangers’ bits and pieces away from Sara. They would not contaminate her. Reaching a hand towards the heap of unfamiliar vampires, she sets them on fire with a beam of lightning. It crackles, jerking on its path, just as unstable as her. With a little explosion, the three form a fire pit.

After much hesitation she carries Sara’s body on top of the glowing remains of her head, and that burns too.

Black smoke bellows all around and isolates her from everything beyond a few feet in front of her. The singed grass have set the trees ablaze, hiding the scene as if ashamed.

“You’re wrong,” Eda mumbled to no one, lost in the thick fog and sobbing as she collapsed to kneel in the dirt.

It was silent except for the seething fires and Eda's weeping. All the animals were long gone. Even the wind had kept away.

Despite all her trespasses, she wouldn’t believe someone like Sara could end up in Hell.

The woman had been right about one thing though: Eda was only good for causing destruction and pain.

The rage had been extinguished and in its place a festering emptiness. This was her fault. It had been her responsibility to keep Sara safe, and she had failed. Of all the deaths Eda had caused or lead others to create, this was the worst. Sara hadn’t deserved this. She hadn’t deserved to be subjected to Eda. She should have told the girl to run that day at the stream, at least then there would have been a chance Sara would find something better than her.

A web encases her, live wires of cables that both embrace and pin as Eda curled in on herself to put her face in the mud, letting out a spine chilling cry at the Earth as if she was demanding the very planet for an explanation.

We can never truly feel another's pain, but that scream came close. It was the kind of scream that puts every other thought on hold and roots everyone in the same agony. The raw despair and hate ensnared by helplessness. She screamed like a mother who had discovered the corpse of her baby in a tumble dryer, garbled and intermittent, but nonetheless terrifying to witness.

Eda came to the same conclusion she had used to comfort herself in the wars, one she had forgotten when they’d escaped Arrius: everything is temporary, and it turns out, Sara was merely one of those things.

////

Eda and Sara had escaped the wars with just months to spare when the Volturi appeared on the scene. By the time the news reaches Eda she’s alone and her personal sun is no more.

In a way she’s relived to hear that the undeniable feeling of dread growing within is shared by the rest of her kind. Because though she makes a considerable effort of avoiding any (un)living thing, it’s nice to be connected with others again- even if it’s just in the face of a common foe.

The Volturi call it a cleanse.

The rest say it’s slaughter.

Eons of history, whole covens, entire blood lines are lost forever. The Italians are in their prime and almost empty England of vampires. They eradicate anything they see as promoting the idea of creating armies of newborns, and ancient books about their beginnings are burned in the fires along the way. It leaves a generational gap (which is centuries long) and many never learn the secrets that had previously been passed from sire to newborn. It’s shameful and barbaric, a disgrace to vampires. But the Volturi won’t listen to anything anyone has to say and burns those that oppose them with their books.

She only sees them once, and that’s more than enough.

Eda knows she won’t be able to fight against Jane, that Aro will see exactly how tangled in the wars she had been, that Chelsea will trap her in their ranks if they get the chance to meet her. And that’s only if it’s decided not to kill her.

She refuses to be involved and runs in the opposite direction, diving into the ocean and not returning to land for over thirty years.


	9. Rue

By the 1500s Eda has grown bored of strolling around the English woods in a cycle of loathing and thirst. It’s becoming harder to avoid humans as they grow braver and no longer stay out of the forests, unknowingly reclaiming the land left behind by the lack of vampires. Shockingly, when a mortal comes upon her they now think of her less like an evil sprit and more like a lost hag. She’s particularly violent with those people and leaves a trail of terror behind wherever she goes despite her lingering love of the human race. They learn to fear the dark again.

After much consideration she decides to play pretend and live as a human. She builds her own cosy cabin on the edge of the next town she stumbles on, and lays roots. It’s only occupied for the week before she accidentally kills the wrong human and she has to move on.

It takes almost eighty years for her to learn enough self restraint not to eat every person she meets, the years of instant gratification proved difficult to re-wire. But she settles into a rhythm of moving every ten years, long enough to enjoy her time yet just short enough that the humans don’t call her a demon. In a way she likes to think she’s honouring Sara by making these short acquaintances with the humans, and it helps more than those thirty years of hiding in the ocean wallowing in sorrow ever did.

….

1600s

At the turn of a new century she takes a break from civilian life and makes it her mission to travel the world. Within the year she’s done, so she does it again but makes it last a couple of decades.

Eda learns all she can, eager to discover and adventure. She sees untold sights: the world is an infinity exquisite place. The civilisations she comes into contact with and their cultures only reinforce the admiration she has for those breakable mortals. The wilderness she explores are enchanting, and she feels at home within the humid rain forests.

But the highlight is always the animals, when she could get close enough to see them at least. Their knee-jerk reaction to her presence is to flee as far as they can get, but sometimes she can get within a few feet; looking but never forcing them to endure her cold touch.

Tired with being just another uneducated nomad she spends her nights breaking into library's to read everything she can get her hands on. She takes an interest in medicine and language, having hidden away for too long and amazed at what she’s missed.

Of course knowledge comes with downsides and her love for humans wears thin, spotting a pattern of an endless need for war. She’s beyond exhausted of mortal men acting like they knew everything and that she knew nothing.

At first she simply follows them home and drains them, but soon realises she can’t cull the entire male population and compromises for feeding only on them instead. She can live with that miniscule justice.

The higher class and educated people she finds at these library's suit her well, too well, and she gets a sickening feeling in her gut that said it’s almost as if she was born to be among them. It should bring comfort to get a clue in who she had been as a human but it doesn’t. She isn’t that person anymore. It doesn’t matter.

….

In 1692 she’s at Salem bearing witness to witch trails.

Eda spends that year listening to the humans’ gossip, keeping her ears out for accusations and warning as many as she can, even convinces some to leave. But no one really wants to listen to a girl with red eyes in the middle of the paranoia and it doesn’t take long before the target is painted on her back.

It occurs to her that she could play that situation two ways: on one hand she could let them burn her out of the morbid curiosity of what if that could work, just to provide an end. On the other though, she could allow them have their moment of triumph of finding as close to a real witch they’ll ever get, let them think they’ve got her, then slaughter them all until the streets run red.

Instead she leaves for fear of the Volturi hearing about her meddling.

Later she reads about it in history books (which was weird enough to read about herself in the third person), and regrets not playing god with the delusional colony.

…

1700s

Before she knows it a whole century has passed her by. Eda decides that her _break_ as she’d called it has lasted long enough and she takes up resistance in England.

This time she’s got a goal in mind though, fed up with having to steal and pick-pocket to get by and wanting to try her hand at building a fortune.

To say she was good at it would be an understatement.


	10. Companion

It was the year 1745 in England and a wealthy noble with the urge to show off had organised a masquerade ball. Most of the guests were meant to be there, though of course there were a few uninvited strangers who had been curious about what the festivities would be like and unable to resist the clawing need to slip into the party. The nobleman who was behind the get together obviously didn’t mind these trespassers and hadn’t placed anyone at the front gates to collect the invitations which had been so diligently sent out, so the unheeded guests remained anonymous behind their masks.

Within the mass of giggling ladies, drinking men and slow whirl of folk sweeping the designated dancing area was a man unlike those around him. An unsuspecting onlooker wouldn’t have known the difference by design, but someone on the search might recognise the pale skin that reflected the light shining from the chandlers above just a little too well. They might have even taken note of the strange gold colour of his eyes, though they could just as well be thrown off by them since they were unheard of even among his own kind. It was rare however an uneducated person took serious suspicion upon him though, they were always too mystified by him to really think about the chill that run down their spine.

He was grateful for the mask tied round his head, it felt nice to be at least partially invisible without the longing looks so often tossed his way. Sometime between the doors and entering what seemed to be a drawing room he had acquired a glass which he pretended to drink from time to time. Parties like these weren’t his usual scene, but being a good friend of the host he had been invited, and decided to show his face as to not appear an outcast.

Wondering absent mindedly through the crowds of people, the sounds of their heart beats joining the unnoticed humming at the back of his head, he quietly observed the room from an empty corner. The walls were scattered with large detailed paintings of landscapes and pretty women in various degrees of undress, a large fire place sat unlit to the right of the room; a wise choice seeing as the guests seemed already a little warm. Many long sofas decorated the room, though few were occupied since the mob seemed to prefer to stand in tight groups of semi circles to gossip at a tolerable volume.

For a moment the pale man considered joining one of the conversations to further blend in, when a woman sitting alone on one of the sofas caught his eye.

Like him she was pretending to drink from a half full glass. Her mask had thick black lace covering the gaps where her eyes were, and if he had been human the red wine colour would have been missed on him. He had to suppress the bubbling, not quite boiling instinct to crouch into a defensive position.

If he had been human he wouldn’t have seen the scars littering her otherwise pristine face, jaw, neck, chest, shoulders, arms, hands– every part of her was stamped with warnings to stay away. Only a slight flinch came from him as he took her in. Bite marks and jagged trench lines made her otherwise celestial appearance shift into something sinister and menacing.

The humans were lucky to be spared from having to see them and briefly he was envious of their bad eye sight.

Though she was seated he could tell she was a petite woman. Her shoes tiptoed on the floor yet her presence called for attention. She wore an elegant brown wig which had been fluffed up and curled. Hemlock flowers and a few pink roses had been carefully plaited into the left side of her head, a warning, though the joke was wasted on the mortals. Even with the white mask covering the upper half of her face she was not spared from the occasional jealous glare from the women in the room. They looked at her as if she was the sun: never directly except when sneering in frustration. She suited the sophisticated yet appropriate red dress, positively designed to belong with the higher social class. Her dress matched the rubies on her necklace – and her eyes.

He had been caught, but she didn’t seem to mind his curiosity if the inviting close-lipped smile that had appeared was any hint.

Supposing he should be polite to this radiant woman, he calmly made his way forwards and sat down a respectful distance beside her.

“Hello,” she greeted in a surprisingly fruity, mellow voice without glancing his way and for a second he was unsure if she was addressing him or someone near the fireplace where she was gazing. “And what’s a pretty boy like you doing in a place like this?” The woman spoke cheerfully again as she turned her head smoothly to look him in the face.

It took everything in him not to let his eyes dart to the crescent scars now even more shocking close up. “I’m a friend of the host and I was curious about how the humans celebrate these days.” However he couldn’t hold back the warm expression that settled on him. His race were rarely so welcoming to strangers.

“Did the sun come up or was that a smile?” She flirted light heartedly, quietly intrigued with the eyes of her new company.

“My name is Carlisle Cullen.” He extended a hand for the woman to shake, “what brings you to an occasion such as this?”

“Oh I’m just here to establish an alibi.” The woman laughed joyously and took the offered hand. Carlisle couldn’t help feeling the scars on her palm, the most prominent was the one between her right thumb and index finger. “Only joking, I’m Eda. I live near by. I’ve never been able to stay away from a good ball.”

He swore he caught a wink as she released his hand. “I thought there was someone else in town but I brushed it off as a nomad passing through.”

“Me too.” They sized each other up for a moment, the instinct to get the invader out of their territory forcing itself into the front of both their minds. Eda decided she was old enough to willingly tolerate the friendly vampire, so ignored it. Carlisle knew she’d have the advantage of experience, and he disliked the idea of violence, so didn’t act either. Seeing that neither of them were going to become aggressive, the tension disappeared and the conversation flowed once again. “I can’t lie, I’m surprised to find another vampire at such a crowded place.”

“As was I.” The overstuffed room grew louder by the minute, and Carlisle put his untouched drink down on the small wooden table to his left. “I’ve been working on my thirst for the last eighty years, my aim is to completely overcome our… condition, so I can become a doctor to help the humans.”

Eda’s eyebrows flickered up and she looked over him again, flashing a grin when she thought of how future mortals would probably deliberately throw themselves into traffic just to be treated by him. “Well that is impressive, if I had known you would brag I might have reconsidered letting you so close.” She might just be able to be friends with this young vampire. “I sincerely hope you’re able to become a doctor.”

“Thank you.” This time it was Carlisle who laughed, catching in his throat from lack of use. “Would you like to continue this outside? I have a feeling I’m wasting my time waiting for the host.” He stood and waited for her response.

“I thought you’d never ask!” Eda stood and led the way, walking effortlessly through the humans who swarmed and lingered around the house.

**Eda’s POV**

How fun this night was turning out, this new vampire actually had me interested. I had never seen golden eyes on one of my kind before. Once outside we talked openly, both feeling more at ease away from the humans. The charade could rest for a little while.

He told me about having a small house on the edge of town, hidden a few miles into the forest away from preying eyes and tempting heart beats, where he didn’t have to pretend. I gave him directions to my own house which was also build in the thicket, turns out we had set ourselves up on opposite sides of the city.

“So do you consider yourself a nomad?” I had asked him. Carlisle was so… civilised. Tame. Domesticated even. So unlike the roaming, unambitious creatures I’d met before. Yet he was too relaxed to be in the presence of me (a stranger) to remind me of the power hungry rulers I’d encountered many years ago. Mortal almost- if it wasn’t for the distinctly not-human eyes reflecting my own image in the darkness I might have been tempted to have a bite just to check. He had no coven though he told me about some of the friends he’d made in his short 80 years: Alistair and Amun. Neither sounded like pleasant coven mates anyway, but when I told Carlisle this (in a teasing manner of course not wanting to offend) he tried to assure me they had good intentions. Briefly I reflected on my first century, wondering if his chattiness was just loneliness making him desperate for company. I didn’t say this to him, and simply continued to listen as he got what he needed off his chest.

“I have to move around every twelve years or so, to keep the humans from getting suspicious.”

“Keeps their pitch forks and witch trails at home.” We laughed quietly, I a little darker than him. Having lived through those witch trails I knew it was terribly unlikely, it was the women that had often paid the price. “So witch doctor, I’m dying to ask- why aren’t your eyes red?”

He didn’t seem to mind the question, obviously prepared for it. “I feed only on animals, not humans.”

It was like a cannon had sounded in my ears. It was rare I was stunned anymore. I was silent, rolling his response around my head. How strange, how odd. I’d never considered there could be an alternative to human blood, or that an alternative was even possible. “And you discovered this diet all by yourself?” Carlisle nodded, still appearing easy going. “Fascinating!” Unable to hold back a high pitched laugh, I knew I just had to try this. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy humans, the very opposite, they brought me great pleasure. I lived for the chase, the hunt. But afterwards, when their bodies slumped and grew cold, as did my mood. The sight of a corpse unsettled me. Ironic really. 

Still thinking this new diet over in my head, I refocused when Carlisle spoke softly, apologetic as if he regretted talking before he’d opened his mouth. “I hate to ask really, but I’ve never met one of us with the kind of marks you have. If you don’t mind me asking, could you tell me how they happened? I was under the impression it was impossible to harm us.”

I took a glance at my hands and wrists and the many bites I’d gotten, wishing I'd worn my gloves. “I was changed around 1350 in the middle of the Plague wars. At the rate humans were dying of the black death, vampires at the time thought the human race were dying out.” A ridiculous assumption: humans are so adaptable. I told him about how they began, the delirious need to establish bigger territories with bigger populations of mortals, how it had sparked massacre and demanded vengeance. Carlisle took it all in silently. “Then someone had the bright idea of making lots of newborns and using them as soldiers against their enemies, that’s where I come in.” I told him a little about what it was like. Not the whole of it; only those who had survived could truly understand, and those who hadn’t often didn’t sit well when they were let in on the secret. Without meaning to, I stopped talking and started to remember what it had been: Hell on Earth for 60 years. Surrounded by death on all sides, both human and vampire. The feeling of hopelessness and not knowing how to get out of that cycle of death and destruction. The guilt of trying to come to terms with having to live by stealing life. The memories were misted and tinted red with the blood; blood of strangers and blood of those I only half recognised even now.

“You were one of these newborns?” Carlisle probed, trying his best to be polite though I could see he was eager to learn. I didn’t blame him, there were few who had witnessed what I had.

“I was. There were so many mass graves the humans never even noticed the added bodies until years later.” He stood listening closely, hanging off my every word. “We would fight among each other in between battles. Some never even saw the outside world before being disposed of.” I laughed humourlessly, suddenly realising I had spilled my guts to someone I hadn’t known half an hour ago and cleared my throat. “So I’ve told you all about me- your turn.” Smiling as brightly as I could, I flipped the questions on him, “how young are you?”

“I was changed somewhere between 1630 and 1640, I honestly don’t know. Believe it or not my father was a vampire hunter.” We both snickered at that. “Not a very good one though. I spent my change in a pile of potatoes, the smell of them still makes me nauseous.”

We were in good spirits that night.

Carlisle taught me how he hunted, we took turns on the deer in the parks. They were less satisfying than humans but it lessened the thirst from scorching to an itch. It worked.

“Forgive me,” he started, “but I’ve never heard of the wars you talk about?”

Nodding, I wiped my mouth, thankful I had become a clean drinker so my dress wasn’t ruined. “We got too big for our boots so to speak. The humans began to heal from their sickness and grew afraid when their graves were still being filled. They couldn’t figure out why so many were dying when the plague was fading. In the end the Volturi had to step in.” He was confused so I stopped and waited.

“Step in?”

“They cleaned it right up. Killed every vampire they could find who had been involved or even heard of the wars. They were petrified. It was the first time to my knowledge anyone had built armies out of newborns before. They didn’t want the idea to spread. It took a few years, but they almost emptied England. There are very few who lived through the cleansing to tell others about it.”

Carlisle looked like he wanted to argue their case as he had with his friends, but instead took down another deer to allocate himself time to process. Afterwards I discovered he admired the Volturi, didn’t see the trails of executions they’d left through history as anything but strict punishments for crimes.

I didn’t pressure him to change his mind, letting him figure it out on his own.

We parted ways before sunrise, promising to see each other again.

For the remainder of the decade we made good on that deal and met on a weekly bias, sometimes accidentally but more often on arranged days to hunt together. He became a close friend of mine, and the celebration we had when he succeeded in becoming a doctor was legendary.

When it was time to bid him farewell Carlisle asked me to join him and travel together as a little coven. I kindly rejected his offer, preferring to travel alone and wary of what had occurred the last time I was in a coven with a pacifist. I did however commit myself to keeping in contact through letters, and he appreciated the trade off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter first and I think you can kinda tell because I'm pretty sure this is the most description I ever give to Eda


	11. Signs of The Times

1751

Meeting Carlisle gives her life a change of pace and she travels to America to see if anything is different from when she was last there. She’s already well practiced in resisting her thirst, so the adjustment to feeding on animals isn’t as earth rattling as she thought it’d be. It isn’t as fulfilling and they don’t taste as good, but they put up a better fight so she compromises. However it is frustrating to not just kill the humans that irritate her.

Intriguingly Eda thinks a little clearer after switching her diet. When she writes to Carlisle he’s also interested in the resolution though he finds his immaculate record an obstacle in understanding exactly why she’s experienced the epiphany. He’s working night shifts at a human hospital and Eda is quietly more impressed with each letter she receives. She wonders if she could do something meaningful for the humans like becoming a nurse (she knows the theory after all), but thinks better of it when she remembers how tempted she is by the blood of one mortal. It’s better not to push her luck by surrounding herself with the smell of dozens.

In some ways she finds comfort in having someone to talk to, and she feels like she actually belongs in the world for the first time in almost four hundred years. In other ways she’s concerned about her friend, Carlisle is lonely now that he’s by himself again and she worries. Waving off her fretting, he throws himself deeper into his work and saves uncountable humans. She’s proud of the young vampire- really.

….

March 1861

Stories of an American civil war hang in the humans minds, some yearning for a fight and some apprehensive of what it will bring. It’s in every line they speak, passionate about their politics and lifestyles, incapable in surrendering their beliefs. She can feel it in the air: the war will come. Neither side is ready to give in and it’s going to tear America apart.

Eda wants no part in it.

She thinks the principles it’s based on are vile and she is too old to still be seeing history repeat itself. Unwilling to stay and be a spectator to such a thuggish war, she leaves for England.

Eda's unhappy at the state of the world and mourns for the loss of the lush forests of the Earth she called home. The humans are flattening the ground inch by inch and she decides the mortals are natural bullies who strive for power, saved by the skin of their teeth by the handful of compassionate people.

Unable to escape to her woodlands but averse to leave the island out of spite, Eda keeps herself amused by living at the bottom of a dry wishing well; just because she can. It’s a new experience, and the gossip she hears from the mortals that visit is entertaining enough. She listens to every wish they make and smiles at their hopefulness when she whispers back to the few particularly interesting ones. There are many decelerations of love, sorrowful tales and modest requests for simple happinesses such as a cat or a sturdy wooden table.

Once she pranked a group of inquisitive school children who had peered down the well, and called to her when they spotted a pair of eyes glowing in the shadows. She’d scurried up the walls at a speed they could see and poking her head out at them, though they had ran before she got to the top. Despite her games she likes the children’s prayers best, always considerate and unaware of what else could be more important in life than the simple joys of youth and adolescence.

Eda hadn’t felt like this since her years at sea and wonders if they’ll make myths based on her mischief as the sailors had when she’d dragged their shipmates over board.

She abandons the well in 1868, two years after the civil war has ended and sees that things are relatively back to normal when she ventures back into America.

Word reaches her about the Southern wars in days of arriving and it’s surreal to experience again, only this time as an outsider looking in.

There are tales of a man her kind crudely nickname the God of War. He’s never lost a fight for Maria, the vampire who turned him. They also label him the Major, Maria’s attack dog or simply Whitlock (though she only heard that once). It doesn’t take Eda long to understand they’re all the same person and she pities the man, feeling like she’s hearing someone talk about her. Not wanting to meet him or become caught in a country wide battle which the Volturi will come to put to an end, and they _will_ come eventually, she swims to Norway. 

When she really thinks about it though Eda’s surprised it’s taken this long for vampires to rediscover their history, or perhaps that’s just her experience acknowledging it’s the most efficient method.

….

1915 – England

There was another a war going on, a world war- the first of its kind that Eda was aware.

She thought about why humans liked to go to war so much. It didn’t seem the same as the vampire wars still raging in the South or the ones she’d been involved in, but at the same time they did. It was all about power, about the he said she said, the showing off and measuring their dicks to see who had the biggest one in the world and being willing to kill to be the best.

Throughout all her years she was sure of at least one thing: men were exactly the same no matter the year. For five hundred and sixty five long fucking years she’d had to prove herself to every man she encountered, killed so many who didn’t give her the respect she knew she deserved as a (un)living creature, butchered countless more because they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. Obviously she didn’t feed off those she murdered anymore, but sometimes she comes across a mortal that the world would benefit from not having around and plucks them from the night.

On one of Eda’s rare travels into the city to get a fresh change of clothes, she finds something that makes her pause. She heard them before she saw them: a small crowd of women shouting, chanting, on a street corner holding signs.

A protest.

They were doing it peacefully, passionately, cheering their points to the passers by who spat back at them. Eda read their signs: _Votes for women_ , and understood. The dark tunnel she saw humanity as began to seem like there was a glimmer of hope at the end. Things were changing, and Eda wanted to be a part of it.

One of the older women who seemed to be in charge watched, half cautious and half curious, as she approached. Her golden eyes made the human stare. So interesting that human women could sense that a natural predator was upon them clearer than men, it was probably evolutionary at this point. “Do you have a spare?” Eda’s query made the women look over her again, weighing up the risks before handing over a heavy sign no one else had wanted to carry. She knew a woman like Eda, one with the presence that drew shivers and an audience, would work wonders for their cause. Eda took the sign gratefully and joined the protest, matching their enthusiasm and asking what else they were planning. They called themselves suffragettes and invited her to their next demonstration.

And if the women suddenly found that the public no longer heckled for the remainder of Eda’s stay, well that was just a coincidence. They could keep that secret, figuring that anyone that inspired so much fear in whoever held ill will for them were pretty damn dangerous and definitely someone they wanted to stick around.

….

It shouldn’t surprise Eda anymore, the lengths humans will go to for control- and yet.

The year is 1943 and the humans were four years deep in having another world war because fuck whoever had baptised The War To End All Wars. But it’s different this time because now she’s right in the middle of it. She just couldn’t stand to see the humans destroy each other any longer and had signed up the moment the news had broken.

Eda isn’t quite sure where exactly she is, but she’s a nurse and travels with the army. There’s a chance maybe she’s in France, although it certainly doesn't look like the France she remembered. Slowly she’s restoring her love for humans, seeing their stubbornness as resilience. The sight of soldiers spending their last moments preaching their undying love for their families and clutching their pictures moved her heart to bleed. Carlisle’s choice to become a doctor made a lot more sense these days, and she found the motivation to push pass her bloodlust to help the wounded.

It was complete chaos outside the medical tent. The Nazi's were destroying the Allies' troops, corpses and the injured streamed in and out of the tent quicker than the nurses could treat them. Eda aided where she could, subtly embracing her vampire speed whenever no one was watching to stitch cuts, bound blown off limps and fetch medicine. She listened to the heart beats of shell-shocked soldiers, settling them before they had a flash back. This was harder than Eda expected, as she could hear the heartbeats of everyone in the tent, had to learn how to separate the humming and assign each to their own bodies. The outside elements of the battle (the endless gun fire and explosions) forced her to focus on her patients, seeing them as individuals. It was inevitable that she would expand her fondness for the mortals.

A solider wrapped in bandages and laying in a bed grabbed her hand, too far out of it to notice her temperature or the barely detectable texture, “please Miss, help me.” She was unable to answer before he was dead.

When she remembered what had happened afterwards, this was the moment her world shifted: a boy (because it was clear to her that’s what he was no matter what his documents said) dying alone on unfamiliar soil with only the company of a vampire for comfort, begging Eda of all people for help. It made her snap, the moment when she’d had enough. Enough of the blood, of the bodies, of the running away, of being suffocated by deaths that weren’t even her fault. No more today.

Storming away from the dead soldier, Eda exited the tent and ignored the calls for her to come back.

She walked until she reached the Allies trenches, leaping over them without missing a step in plain view of the humans watching below. “Y’can't go out there! That's no man's land, you'll be shot." Another young soldier shouted at her as if she wasn't aware, too similar in age to the one still laying dead in the tent. His yelling landed on deaf ears as Eda stalked into the waste land.

Striding across the burnt earth, she let the voices on both sides and the explosions around her fade. This was her decision and no one was going to stop her, not even the Volturi would make her halt. Eda had hidden her nature for far too long. _W_ _hy should I let_ _so many_ _humans die when one vampire could win this battle for them?_ She thought, before being shot in the leg: a warning. It bounced off her skin and she kept going. Men in uniforms gawped as she thundered passed but continued what they were doing when she was out of sight, reasoned away as a sign they needed sleep and a bath or an omen (of hope or their demise they didn't know). Another bullet hit Eda between the eyes, someone had good aim. Distressingly for the Germans the bullet simply pinged off like the first. It didn’t deter her from backhanding the fences of barbed wire in the way.

She could see the German soldiers trembling in their pits and started to run, a blue streak in the wind as she jumped into their ditches. Eda was of the predisposition that the only things which should come out of a Nazi's mouth is her fist and their teeth. That’s when the screaming began.

Amazingly none of the soldiers had bothered to learn her face so when Eda returned to the tent less than half an hour later with faked tears trailing down her cheeks no one suspected a thing.

The incident was brushed off as some hallucination as a result of shell shock or at the very least just a suicidal nurse, and no one had the time or effort spare to investigate the mysterious deaths of their enemies. When the piles of bodies were found later that day the Allies were congratulated on a job well done, even though no one could explain by what means or why they’d been killed without a single bullet. Their one hint is the singed corpses, but the lack of fires only spins the riddle tighter.

Thankful for the surprise win, no one wanted to question their luck and risk jinxing it. Even the Germans largely shrugged them aside, launching a one man investigation into whether the Allies had developed a new weapon. It was dropped and trashed when they found nothing, just another platoon disbanded.

It’s not a habit she makes, knowing the danger of getting too involved, but every now and then when the odds are just a little too stacked against them the Allies experience a perplexing victory- and no one pays attention to how Eda is always absent from her post to see them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eda drinks her Respect Women juice


	12. Heads I Win, Tails You Lose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and Gentlemen, and all those in between, the show is about to begin. Please remember to turn off all cell phones, beepers, watch alarms, radar detectors, egg timers, electric shavers, and anything else that would make a distracting noise during the show.

Late September 1948—Philadelphia

Aimlessly strolling around the forest at a human pace was a barefoot Eda. She wore a grey dress which fell just below her knees, white gloves that reached her elbows and carried a small brown leather case in one hand. She had found it less than a decade ago though it had been beaten by the elements and would soon need replacing, one of the two buckles keeping it shut had started to deteriorate. Inside she kept some legal documents that would help her buy a house; as well as a change of clothes, some jewellery, a few bundles of money and her shoes.

A quiet gasp behind Eda caught her attention and she looked over her shoulder to see where it had came from.

It was a vampire with yellow eyes, a girl. They reminded her of her old friend Carlisle, the only other person she’d met with eyes like that. She seemed sincerely happy to see Eda, though she didn’t really notice before the woman started sprinting at her.

Crouching and ready for a fight, she felt static build at her finger tips, planning on shocking her once she was close enough to aim right; no need to start a forest fire. However before she could the girl stopped right in front of her, still grinning despite the hissing it was met with, looking a little like a cat on crack. The girl waved, at eye level to her from the low position Eda had gone into. She looked undernourished, if that was possible for a vampire.

“Hi Eda, I’m so glad I finally found you. This sets everything into motion. Y’know I’ve been searching for you for ages, you really kept me waiting too long.” The girl huffed then continued with her high pitched rant, “you should maybe try walking passed some more identifiable land marks instead of just wondering around the woods trying to get lost. Look at a map every now and then jeez.”

 _What was going on here?_ “… Hello?” Eda asked, straightening up and staring down at the almost otherworldly girl, smiling a little at the weirdness.

The cowboy hat in her hand didn’t give any hints what this whole situation was about. She seemed physically around the same age as Eda, her black hair cut at an uneven angle under her ears and resembling splattered ink as it stood on end. She noted that the girl was dressed weirdly high-class for a nomad; she even had little shiny black high heeled shoes. Nomads never wore shoes: they just couldn’t withstand the forces of a vampire running at high speeds.

“Here,” she held out the hat, “you’ll need this.”

She looked the hat over before remembering to be polite and took it gingerly, “thank you?” It was dark grey with a thin rope lopped around it. Eda wasn’t partially fond of hats but it seemed a nice enough gift. In spite of the old smell it looked almost new, well taken care of then.

The girl finally noticed her confusion and spoke softly. “It’s not really for you, it’s a present for someone else. But it’s totally up to you when you give it to them.” Then she started skipping back in the direction she’d just came from.

Growing more confused by the second, Eda decided it was easier to give in and put on the hat as she followed. “Alright who are you?”

“OH!” She squeaked and twirled around on the spot, managing to dance through the trees as if it was choreographed. “I’m Alice.”

“Hey Alice?”

Alice gushed, excitement making her vibrate. “I shouldn’t jinx it but you’re my best friend- _going_ be my best friend.”

While she was secretly enjoying the refreshing high energy, Alice was obviously on a higher supernatural playing field than her. “Oh yeah? How’d you get that?”

“I can see the future,” Alice said matter of factly as if that was normal to do. “I’ve seen you and I becoming sisters.”

Well unless Alice somehow knew her parents that sounded pretty impossible to Eda. “Prove it,” had been her automatic response, eager for any kind of explanation.

Alice brought out a coin from seemingly thin air and flipped it, catching it and hiding it against her hand. “Tails.”

“Heads.” She lifted her hand to show it was tails then returned it to her pocket. “That proves nothing. It’s a fifty-fifty chance.”

“Knew you’d say that.”

Rolling her eyes, Eda chuckled. “Of course you did: you see the future.”

“Now you’re catching on.” Alice either didn’t catch the sarcasm or didn’t care as she stopped at the edge of the trees.

They had emerged beside some train tracks, a little ways away from a damp looking town. She pointed to a yellow diner on the outskirts, “go into that diner and wait for a man called Major Jasper Whitlock. Sit on the second to last stool at the counter. He’ll be there after the little girl in the blue dress leaves so you shouldn’t have to wait long. Wait until he’s sat down to talk to him because otherwise he’ll leave and I am _not_ waiting a decade for another chance.” Alice ordered, pointing up to Eda with her other hand.

Eda had heard the name Whitlock before though she kept it to herself, now looking to the sky and sure she’d be able to head into civilisation without breaking out in glitter. “Alright?” Alice stilled, eyes becoming glassy and her expression blank. “Alice?”

As though someone had flipped a switch, the girl burst into life, “don’t worry, you two will get along like ducks to water!” Alice squeaked then took Eda’s free hand in both of her tiny ones. “Please trust me Eda, this will change your life.”

“What was that about?” She asked, still unsettled by her behaviour.

“I just had a vision, but I’m not telling you what of.” Alice raised her eyebrows at her, smirking cryptically, “you’ll find out soon enough.”

Taking the bait, Eda sighed heavily and tried not to roll her eyes again. “What does he look like?”

She squealed and started bouncing, still holding on to her hand and making her shake. “Oh you’ll know him when you see him. You match.” She glanced at her gloved arms and Eda felt instantly self conscious. Honestly she preferred the usual flinching and hissing to this over-comfortable conversation, and wondered how long this girl had been stalking her. “Sorry, forgot you don’t know me yet. Please don’t take offence.” It was like Alice’s face shattered, guilt making her features crumble. She pulled her hands away and hugged herself.

Never had a vampire perfected puppy eyes as well as Alice. “Forget about it, I don’t mind.” Seeing she was still distraught, Eda hesitantly put a hand on her little shoulder. “Really Alice, don’t worry about it.” She was almost knocked over when the girl threw her arms around her. At first Eda was frozen, something deep inside expecting the arms (that didn’t even reach all the way around her waist) to rip into her and peal her open. Of course that didn’t happen, and after a couple of seconds she got acclimatised enough with the unfamiliar sensation to rest an arm around Alice’s shoulder blades. It was surprisingly nice, and she realised how touch starved she’d become. “If anything I’m more likely to take the gate.”

“I’ll get you used to hugs, you love them- will love them.” Alice’s voice was muffled, but she heard it. “And that’s a fact.”

“Just because you say ‘and that’s a fact’ doesn’t make it one.”

“Show’s how much you know.” Alice replied, satisfied that she hadn’t ruined her chance, releasing Eda and flitting backwards, now grinning. “After you get Jasper find me around here,” she pointed vaguely towards the woods, “before 6pm and we’ll meet the Cullen's.”

“The Cullen’s?”

“They’re like us, they feed on animals instead of humans. We’re a -going to be a family.”

Eda frowned a little deeper, “Carlisle Cullen?” Alice nodded, “how do you know Carlisle?”

“Like I said, I see the future. I’ve seen me, you and Jasper being a family. We’ll be a coven together with Carlisle, Esme, Edward, Rosalie and Emmett.”

This was a lot to take in. She remembered her old friend Carlisle, they sent each other letters a few times a decade when they had registered addresses. Of course he'd told her all about the family he had built, and knew each member Alice had listed. She had shared Carlisle's nervousness about Edward and his peace in finding Esme. Edward was the physically youngest (though actually the eldest of Carlisle's children) and acted the most like his human age: spending his eternity in failed rebellion and brooding. Eda was convinced Carlisle and Esme were soulmates, and their love story was straight out of a fairy tale. He talked about her endlessly, frequently filling whole pages with his worship for her. Rosalie and Emmett would be cause for concern Eda knew, Rosalie was the most defensive about their family and disliked outsiders; and Emmett went along with his wife, though he sounded like the appointed prankster of the family.

“Now get in there and make some friends," Alice ordered, shooing her along.

It had been a long time since Eda had seen Carlisle, and she hoped he was still as open minded as he had been the last time they seen each other. Indulging Alice, and now morbidity curious about what was going on, Eda agreed and started into town with another sigh. Not like she had anything better to do.

“Remember, before 6pm!” Alice yelled when she was over the tracks, Eda simply nodded in response. “See you later!”

On the way she bushed off her feet and put her shoes on, if this Jasper was so important then she’d have to make a good impression.


	13. Snake Skin Cowboy Boots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my second favourite chapter to write, hope you enjoy it as much as I did

Despite the bright colours of the buildings, everything looked tinted grey with the dark clouds over head. There was a rain storm coming, the question of where to get an umbrella hung in the air. Even from outside the little diner Eda could hear the heart beats, all that blood pumping around just remained her of the need to hunt soon.

The sound of a bell signalled her entrance as it knocked against the door. The interior was surprisingly bright and shiny compared to the peeling yellow paint outside, stereotypically red and sparkling fake silver. Dark brown leather booths lined the windows and too small round tables circled by comfy looking red plastic chairs filled the remaining space. There was a wide wooden counter with a white plastic top spanning most of the wall opposite the door with seven high red plush stools. It wasn’t too busy and the three waitresses worked their tables with practiced smiles. It was… cosy.

Doing as Alice had said, Eda walked to the second to last stool at the bar and took a seat. Glass domes were scattered along the counter containing cakes, cookies and muffins. Napkins were waiting on little white plates and a silver case of plastic straws posed beside the till. She watched the reflection of the door through the polished yellow tiles on the wall in front of her.

Alice’s voice bounced with excitement even in her head. She had to wait here for an unstated amount of time for a man whom she had no idea looked like. Just that he was called Jasper and she would know him when she saw him and that – apparently – they’d become friends. Not a whole lot to go on, and Eda knew there was more than what she was letting on. Having kept tabs on the Southern wars since her return to the States, she knew Jasper (if it was indeed the same Major Whitlock she’d heard about eighty years ago) had no business being this far North. Most had moved on from the fighting, and those that had remained were dwindling in strength, clinging to the border and watched by the Volturi. They were less concerned about these wars than the ones Eda had been involved in, and had allowed them to continue as long as the humans didn’t notice. She couldn’t help but feel the difference in treatment was unfair, like how the younger siblings always got away with what the eldest couldn’t.

The only real clue as to what was happening which Alice had given her: when the little girl in the blue dress left Jasper would arrive. She found the reflection of a girl in a blue dress sitting in one of the booths behind her. The child was completely ordinary, enjoying the treat of a milkshake with a woman Eda guessed was her mother. The drink was half empty. She wouldn’t have to wait long.

“Coffee?” Asked a waitress behind the bar with ginger hair. Her pale pink and white uniform was flattering.

Sitting there and refusing a drink or food would seem weird. “Yes thank you.” She looked at the waitress’ name tag: Clare. Putting her case on the counter, she took a few coins from inside and put them on the worktop. It must have been too much because she received an eyeballing from the waitress, though she took the money without question.

A clean cup was put in front of her and filled with steaming coffee. Eda regretted not asking for something that didn’t smell as potent and she made an effort not to cringe. As Clare stepped closer to pour the drink Eda realised she could hear two heartbeats coming from her, one a little fainter than the other but still healthy.

Lucky. So many women had become widows recently. Many families were suddenly lead by single mothers. Eda had never felt the need to have children of her own, disliked how helpless and frog-like babies were for the first couple of years. Still, it was pleasant to see that human life was beginning to return to the way it used to be. Perhaps there would be another baby boom in the coming years like there was after the first world war. “Is it obvious?” Clare had caught her smiling down at her stomach.

“No.” Clare beamed at Eda’s tender expression. “You just have that glow.”

“You’re sweet.” A blush crept on Clare’s face, too dazzled to be concerned about the murky yellow colour of Eda’s eyes. “Nice hat.”

“Thank you.” The child in blue was almost done with her milkshake. “Got any names ready?”

“Mary or Dorothy for a girl, Dale if it’s a boy.” Mary never went out of fashion, one of the rare constant unbroken laws: there would always be little girls named Mary.

“Dorothy’s a good one, I had a friend called Dorothy...” She trailed off, not really expecting her to get the joke.

Clare was immediately more invested in their conversation though she tried to sound indifferent. “Oh you’re a friend of Dorothy’s?”

Eda’s eyes widened at the mutual understanding. “I have been known to be- but right now I’m waiting on a Jasper.” Pity really about the wedding band on her finger, humans were enjoyable to be around.

Clare nodded and patted her stomach. “I have a Richard at home myself.” They giggled quietly and the mortal leaned on the counter. “I’ve never seen you around here before, what’s your name?”

“Eda.” They shook hands. “I’ve lived here a while, funny I haven’t seen you either.” She couldn’t help but have a little fun, not bothering to pinch her grin when the humans’ heart quickened.

“Eda?” Clare rolled the name slowly.

“It’s an old family name.”

She hummed in understanding and was about to speak when the sound of the bell over the door distracted her. The child had left.

With a smile Clare left to clean their table and Eda pretended to sip her drink. Any time now.

A minute passed.

Then another.

And another.

Eda was beginning to feel like the butt of a joke, when a vampire entered the diner.

Oh yes, this was the Jasper she’d been sent for- and she’d be very disappointed if it wasn’t.

Honey blond hair fell just above his collar, framing his dirt dusted face in little curly waves. Black eyes, eyes that told her he was thirsty. It was risky for him to be in the diner the state he was in. Eda prayed Alice hadn’t sent her as clean up as she watched him in the tiles; she quite liked Clare. And even though those eyes had an unhinged quality about them, like he was getting ready to either attack or be attacked, Eda had no memory of being as calm as she become the moment he entered the building. His form became even clearer when he hung his long jacket on the rack beside the door, revealing a muscular yet lean body underneath. This guy was hugely tall, almost reaching the top of the door. She held in a laugh at the sight of his scuffed cowboy boots, wanting to take his presence in before he saw her.

He wasn’t breathing. If he was the jig would have been up by now. Walking steadily with his head held high, his eyes were never still until they’d examined every human in the room. They passed over her and lingered, but snapped away at the noise of a glass being set down roughly. 

The man sat in the same booth the girl in blue had occupied, straight as a steel beam as he people watched out the window next to him. He inhaled slightly and stiffened, slowly turning back towards Eda.

She acted like she wasn’t aware and kept her back to him, watching his reflection stare.

The man could identify the scent of vampire now he was in the same room as her and wanted to smack himself for unwittingly tracking the smell right to the source. Almost overwhelmed with the explosion of positive emotions, Jasper had felt himself drawn into this new woman’s orbit like a little moon around a planet. Nervously he inhaled a tiny bit more, and once he got over the delicious smell of humans subconsciously thought she smelt like moss and trees.

Eventually his scent reached her, carried on the breeze coming through the open window above him. He smelt like rain and sand, which was strange because Eda had gotten the impression he would have smelt of fire, like the flames themselves.

He was sat so Eda considered him fair game from what Alice had told her, and cautiously made her way over.

To signal her presence, though they both knew she didn’t need to, Eda slid her drink on the table. “Jasper right?” She asked trying to sound casual, slipping into the seat across from him, absent-mindedly plucking the menu from its stand and laying it to her right to make it look like she was at least weighing up her options. It wasn’t even glanced at by either of them. She tried not to spread her stuff around, sitting her hat and case together on the seat to her left next to the window.

He met her eyes and they widened at the colour. Her smile puckered: he seemed a little dazed. And he was, her emotions were infectious, only intensifying the closer she got. He was captivated, leaning forwards vaguely to be even nearer. In those first few seconds before he got a hold of himself, he would have agreed to almost anything she said just to stay in that light. “It is?”

She liked the faint southern accent, noting the surprisingly rough voice. “Is it?”

A chuckle came out of him as he shook his head slightly. Sincere humour had been less than an infrequent commodity in Jasper’s life. “Yes ma’am.”

Again a flicker of excitement, this time at being called ma’am. No one said ma’am very often any more. If she could have blushed she would have. “… We do match,” Eda couldn’t help but mutter to herself as she really took in her company and the scars that knitted together around every part of Jasper she could see.

The sleeves of his off-white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and if those exposed parts of him were anything to go by Eda would bet the rest of him looked identical. It was hypnotising and she was sure when he moved the skin would look almost alive. It was only with centuries of having to endure looking at herself did she manage not physically recoiling away from him.

Jasper watched Eda’s eyes look his scars over almost abstractly. He tried to analyse her emotions. Curiosity was a big one, excitement was another, the natural calm he put out into the room was also there. He could tell this was a good climate to be in, a usually happy orbit from the way these emotions were rooted rather than bobbing in newness. Her eyes caught on his throat and without having to see his own reflection in them he knew that part was particularly dicey. He searched the emotions a little deeper. Not even a sniff of the fear or intimidation he had come to expect, only recognition and empathy. So she liked to see she wasn't the only marked up vampire around here. Maybe she thought she could relate.

Jasper silently disagreed. He wouldn't say they matched from what little he could see. He could tell she was watching his reactions closely, waiting for him to flinch just as Jasper always waited when he met new people. He was severely relieved that he had instead leaned forward onto the table, and felt she was grateful as well, and surprised. He zeroed in on her neck; that part of her was like him. Jasper found himself studying the scars on Eda, hooked on her lack of predictable reactions to him. Never had he met someone who didn’t flinch or hiss and spit when they saw him. A wash of refreshment. New. Changing.

After watching him peer at her throat with an easy expression, Eda took a deep breath to ready herself and took off her gloves, shutting them away in her case. She monitored his face as she crossed her forearms on the table and the majority of her scars were revealed, astounded when he seemed more intrigued than anything else. Unable to resist any longer, she extended a hand. “I’m Eda, pleasure to meet you.”

The first flash of uncertainty came onto Jasper's face as she reached towards him, though he didn’t find any ill will in her emotions. Clearly she was lucky to still have all her fingers. He was sad in an odd way, thinking that if anyone did not deserve these marks it would have to be this woman in front of him. Without thinking he took her hand and turned it, leaning in further to put a feather light kiss over her knuckles just as he had been raised to do.

She was stunned, a vampire who had obviously gone through so much had allowed- no, drew her so close. Her mind went back to Alice. Had she really been telling the truth or was this just some sick game that they were both in on? She longed for the first option, the calm hanging around Eda made her unable to think about the last time she’d let down her guard.

Now it was Jasper’s turn to feel shy, misunderstanding the longing he felt coming from her as something else. He was reluctant to let go though he did, feeling a buzzing in his physi when he touched her for the first time. Eda felt it too, but brushed it off as accidentally letting go of her gift. “Pleasure’s all mine.” Something started to shift inside his head, big and bright, though he had no idea what it meant. “I like your hat.”

They both glanced to the cowboy hat. “Thank you.”

A human memory of seeing himself in a dusty mirror with a hat that looked similar to Eda’s came to his mind, and he blinked it away. “It suits you.”

“It’s not actually mine, funny story really-”

She heard the two heartbeats approaching before Clare came to stand next to their table. The girl smirked knowingly at Eda when she noticed she had moved seats, and asked, “what can I get you? Food? Drinks?”

“There’s plenty of food all around us,” Jasper mumbled under his breath, loud enough so only Eda could hear.

Narrowing her eyes, Eda made no effort to hide her own grin. “Do you do pancakes?” It would look a little unusual if there wasn’t anything other than her own neglected coffee on their table.

The young girl smiled, evidently relieved the pair weren’t just loitering. Clare glanced to the clock: 4:38pm. Eda knew it was probably an odd time for pancakes. “We do.”

“In that case can I have an order of those please?” Eda ignored Jasper's curious expression.

“Syrup?”

Eda moaned dramatically in response, making the human laugh. “Please.” When she turned, scribbling on her note pad, Eda faced Jasper again. "How old are you? I'm sure I would have noticed you on my travels." Where had he gained these scars? The same time as she? No, the accent was off. He must have been changed during the American southern wars then. "You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine?"

"I was turned when I was nineteen in 1863 which makes me a hundred and four years old. I was involved in the Southern wars up until five years ago." She had guessed right and whistled quietly in astonishment, this guy was basically shiny new out the war.

Jasper tasted the spark of nervous insecurity, she was hesitant to tell him her story. It couldn't be any different than his though could it? He searched his mind for her face (only with red eyes) and was positive he’d never seen her before. What else had happened that had caused such damage? It was unlikely to be numerous run ins with aggressive too far gone nomads. "I think I was eighteen somewhere around 1350 when I was changed so that means I’m six hundred and sixteen, give or take. I fought in the Plague wars for sixty-ish years.” _That’d do it alright,_ Jasper thought.

Before now Jasper had thought the Plague wars were just a tall tale Maria had told him and her newborns when she was bored, wanting to scare them into believing vampires had always battled and that was just the way it was. "I have heard of these wars, but I thought they were just... vampire legends." He huffed a laugh. "If there was any such thing."

"You wouldn't be the first to think that." It was almost as if someone had intended it that way so the dark reality wouldn’t land right even if it was uncovered. She continued when she saw he wasn’t unsettled. “They happened a long time ago, not many survived long enough to tell others about it after the Volturi put an end to them.” The books those ancient vampires had later tried to write about the wars had been used as kindle for the fires the Volturi dropped their heads in. “I would’ve thought you Americans would have stretched your imagination when starting a vampire civil war. Make a weapon of mass destruction or something instead of just creating newborn armies like us." Jasper’s laugh made her stop asking herself how she had been so lucky to not have been tracked down and turned to ashes like the rest.

"Well I'm sorry ma'am." He caught the remnants of an accent. “You’re British?” She nodded and he gestured to her cup. “Maybe you would have liked tea better.”

“They’re fresh out, says it’s at the bottom of the Boston Harbor.” She glowed when Clare came with her pancakes, thanking her as the girl walked away, and began to cut them up before nudging them oh so subtly towards Jasper.

“You’ll never forgive that will you…" All the history between the English and the Americans and the one time the yankees dumped all their tea into the ocean was the thing they held the biggest grudge over. Typical. "So," he started, honestly interested, "what brings you here?" Jasper pushed the plate back (twice because she did it again right after).

“To the great US of A? Home of the free, land of the brave?”

He ignored her sarcasm. “To Philadelphia.”

"Originally I was just passing through." Eda settled for sliding the pancakes against the window so she didn’t have to look at them, since he was being so stubborn about them not being on his side of the table. "Then I met this girl called Alice who claimed she could see the future." Judging from his expression he was as sceptical as she was. "Very springy. Black hair. About four foot tall?"

He shook his head unable to recall anyone that met Alice's description. “Sounds like a hoot."

Eda laughed, "she was actually. She’s the one who gave me this hat…” She patted the top of it. “Anyways she told me to come here and wait for a man named Major Jasper Whitlock." He flinched a little at the name, and Eda immediately reminded herself not to call him that again. "Said I'd know him when I saw him."

He couldn't help the way he’d reacted, it had been a long time since he'd heard his full name, though he recovered quickly. "Well that's me alright." Sounded like they had a stalker. "So what now? What did you need me for?"

"That’s the thing, I'm not entirely sure."

It was quiet again and Jasper turned the conversation in a new direction. “If I may acknowledge the corn.” She chuckled at him, unfamiliar with the lingo. “I've never seen eyes quite like yours before ma'am." The way he said it would have made her face bright red if she was human.

"Oh stop, I bet you say that to all the girls." She fanned herself theatrically with her hand and he let out a huff of laughter. "I don't drink from humans," she muttered, so the couple walking passed wouldn't hear. "Turns out you can survive off animal blood. It just comes with side effects."

"Well... that does... change things." He had to try this. The depression from his human diet was destroying him.

"It does. It's a different way of life, but it's better not having to kill humans." He still seemed like he was turning the revelation around his head. She hoped he wouldn't think she was weak or odd for not wanting to kill like many did.

"I can feel and influence others emotions," Jasper bust out to her, and now it was her turn to be shocked. "Could you..." Was he sure about this? It went against his nature to ask people for things. Could he resist? He looked up at her eyes again. Could he survive without it? "Would you teach me?" Golden eyes would blend in better than red ones.

Eda blinked at him. Teach? She had never taught anyone before. Teaching herself had been hard enough. Could she stand to be near another if they slipped up around her? "Sure." She didn't have to try too hard to feel enthusiastic. "Since we’re sharing, I can control electricity."

"Show me."

Slowly she slid her hand half way across the table, pointing at him. He seemed to understand but a little hesitant. "I won't do it too hard," she reassured him. It made him feel something he didn’t recognise. No one had ever reassured him before. "It'll just feel like a static shock."

Her smile and genuine emotions made him sigh deeply, and reach his hand closer palm up. "Close enough?" Their hands were a few inches away.

"More than enough." If he was human he would have missed it: a singular spark of lightning shot from the end of her finger and hit his middle one.

It was too late to say he’d been unable to remember what a static shock felt like. "Ow!" He complained, yanking his hand away. After examining the finger (which was fine) he looked up to find her failing to hold back giggles.

A sly smile spread across Jasper's face as he decided to mess with Eda’s easy going orbit. In an instant the smile was gone from her, replaced with a rabid snarl. Her eyes burned like molten metal. The unfamiliar sight was fierce, and within the same second it was gone as Jasper snatched it all back. Her features relaxed but the annoyance lingered.

Now she was aware, she could feel the difference between her own emotions and Jasper's though she had not been able to stop them, and gladly soaked up the calm radiating from him. Maybe next time. It took a moment to fill the space Jasper had left but it didn't take long before the smile returned. "I like mine better cowboy."

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Cowboy?”

Eda waved her hand at him. “I saw those fancy boots the second you walked in.” He smiled a little as the happiness crept forwards. “Snake skin though, really? It’s practically the 50’s.”

“You have to appreciate the craft of a well made boot Eda.” That just made her shoulders shake as she held her breath to keep herself from laughing in his face. “Cowboy boots never go out of fashion,” he told her seriously.

She took a fake sip of her coffee, mumbling into the cup, “sure if you’re an idiot.” Jasper snorted but didn’t argue.

They sat comfortably, listening to the sounds of the diner around them. Eda smiled at Clare and, not wanting to encourage the girl behind the bar to come over, Jasper politely turned to look out the window.

She scribbled a note on her book and held it up for Eda: _How’s your Richard turning out?_

Eda gave her two thumbs up and Clare stifled another titter, winking before flipping the page and going back to work.

Jasper watched the interaction mirrored on the glass and pondered the happy emotions coming from them. Totally alien- yet so easy.

Eda looked to the window, meeting his eyes on the reflection and only grinned wider as he raised his eyebrow again at her human friend making shenanigans. “Mortals are funny.”

“If you say so.” Jasper watched as she poured sugar into her coffee. He was no expert, but he knew it wasn’t normal to put half the sugar container in drinks. “That’s a lot of sugar.”

“Makes me feel alive.” She brought the cup to her lips and pretended to sip. The chilled liquid inside smelt foul and she shivered in disgust before putting it back down.

“Cold?”

“I am actually.”

“There must be a draft.”

Eda looked at the clock, 4:54pm. “We should get going, Alice said to meet up with her before 6.”

Jasper checked the time and pulled a face. “We have an hour.” He wasn’t completely sure why he was even going along with this.

She sighed and put a few bills on the table, exiting the booth. “We’ve got to find her first.” He huffed and got up as well.

She frowned at the height difference when he stood and discovered she barely came to his shoulder, briefly confused by the way he’d managed to grow so tall in a time when people had been shorter than they were presently. Eda grabbed the hat and planted it on her head, heading for the door, case in hand.

It was obvious to Jasper the hat was too big for her, and backwards. Cute. He blinked that thought away. Ok, now he was really thinking about it, it was becoming clearer why he was going along with this.

“You comin’ partner?” Eda called to him when she noticed he wasn’t behind her. It brought him back to reality and he followed after her, remembering to pick up his jacket on the way out. “Howdy,” she greeted him when he reached her.

“You know I wasn’t actually a cowboy right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to imagine an alternative universe where Eda ignores Jasper and instead stays at the diner all day talking to Clare, and then they run away together to raise her baby. (Google “friends of Dorothy's” if you don’t get the joke) Also, just wanted to straighten things out (haha), Eda is officially bisexual as decreed by me- the author. 
> 
> ALSO ALSO, did anyone catch the note about Carlisle thinking the glass was half full when they first met a couple of chapters ago, and Eda thinking the girl in blues’ glass was half empty? I thought that was a fun little detail.
> 
> The dates around when Jasper leaving Maria are MESSED THE FUCK UP. Like, it’s a major plot hole that has just not been addressed. The only official statement I can find says Jasper fought for 75 years, but I did the maths and ended up with 63 years, so I’m following Steph’s bad timeline making skills and saying it’s 75 just for simplicity sake and pretending it makes sense. The Official Illustrated Twilight Guide states that Charlotte was transformed in 1938 and but also that Jasper leaves Maria in 1938. We know there were 5 years between the time that Peter and Charlotte ran off together and when they returned for Jasper. We know Jasper was with them for three years before wondering alone prior to meeting Alice (in 1948). It is mathematically impossible for Charlotte to live as a newborn for a year, run away with Peter for five years, and return for Jasper and it still be 1938- AND for Jasper to somehow stay with Maria for 75 years. I legit tried to figure it out for two hours but each source gives me something different so I’m sticking with 75 (even though I don’t think it’s right) because it’s just a number and doesn’t really change anything. If anyone’s mad, same because me too.


	14. Forgotten Lore

Eda was barefoot again, walking through the same forest she had been earlier, only this time in the opposite direction and with Jasper beside her. At first he had tried to convince her to put his boots in her case, and Eda had almost agreed until she saw how muddy the soles were and had promptly refused. He didn’t look too unhappy about having to carry them. Instead she had compromised and offered to put in his coat (which he had folded over his arm), and Jasper was in better spirits that she hadn’t rejected him completely. They had been searching for Alice for what seemed like yonks to Eda, and so far had yet to see hair or hide of the girl.

Jasper came to a stop, picking something off the ground. "What is it?" Eda asked, also pausing.

"A camera?" He turned around to her, flipping it over in his hand. There was a pink note attached to the base which he held up for her to read:

_'Get to Forks Washington before the new year and find the Cullen's. I know I said to meet me at 6pm but it was really just to get you to pick up the camera before it rained. I’ll meet up with you both in a few weeks so you crazy kids play nice until I get back. The film is completely empty, have fun. ~A.'_

Beneath was an address she recognised as the Cullen's. "Alice," Eda breathed, reaching out for the camera, thinking about how she would have to write to Carlisle. Instead Jasper held it to his eye and clicked it at her. "Hey!" He clicked it again. "Stop wasting the film." Knowing his game Eda took off her hat and used it to cover her face just in time for another click.

Jasper chuckled, knowing taking another picture would be useless, and passed the camera to her when she put the hat back on. She promptly clicked it at him, thinking it’d be a good one despite not looking through the lens: he’d been doing that crooked smile at her. "Hypocrite," Jasper muttered, although he was still smiling as he turned around and continued walking.

Eda let him walk a few paces then clicked the camera again, and once more when he frowned over his shoulder at her. "Three for three, you started it," she said, dropping her arm and jogging after him. He stopped to let her catch up, then carried on by her side.

The pair went quietly for a long while. Sometimes Jasper would put his hand out for the camera (which she readily gave him) and snap a picture of a particularly intriguing bit of forest or a brave bird. They went at a human pace, there was no rush to get to Washington after all, and Eda resisted the urge to pick flowers along the trail in hopes of seeing a butterfly. She thought Alice’s deadline of more than three months was excessive, but knowing her (and she didn’t really) that probably meant she wanted them there a lot sooner. Some kind of game of reverse physiology no doubt. She watched the man next to her in her peripheral vision; it’d been a long time since anyone had wondered through the forests with her and sometimes the movement caught her off guard. He didn’t stroll per say. It was more of a slow march. His steps were like a metronome: rhythmic. Eda thought she could probably tell the time pretty well walking beside him. Jasper's head turned steadily from side to side, and with the height difference he simply looked over her without any trouble.

Having only recently becoming accustomed to moving at a human speed, he couldn’t keep himself from acting as a look out, stealing glimpses at Eda with every pass he made over the top of her head. He thought she was timelessly beautiful- but it was more than that. It was refreshing to not feel even a hint of fear from those around him, and even more so to see someone who just might understand why he sometimes behaved the way he did. With her there was a possibility of finding solace in their shared experiences and mutual understanding, so different from what had previously always unfolded.

Eda thought his movements resembled a lighthouse, or the meerkats she’d seen on her latest visit to the South of Africa. Beastly little goblins, but she saw the similarities in his head rotations and smiled to herself at the image. He felt the amusement coming from her and hummed in question. “Have you ever seen a meerkat?”

“A meerkat?” Jasper repeated carefully, as if speaking a foreign language. “Can’t say I have. What is it?”

“They stand on their hind legs like squirrels, looks kinda like a rat but more teeth. I think they’re a kind of rodent.” Eda thought a little more about what she knew about them, in the process realising she didn’t know very much. “They live in Africa.” She usually learnt about animals through observation, and the creatures hadn’t relaxed enough to do anything but hide and growl at her.

“Africa?”

She nodded. “It’s a continent, I’ll have to show you after we find Alice. Hopefully we can steal a boat, it takes a while to swim across the Atlantic Ocean. The last time I swam it I met these whales, biggest fish I’ve ever seen. I think they’re called blue whales- even though they’re actually more grey. Then again we could go to Brazil and swim from there, probably be quicker.” Jasper let her ramble, listening politely, and it dawned on Eda that she hadn’t actually asked him if he had other commitments than the wild goose chase they were currently on. “… That’s if you’d like to come? I never asked.”

Jasper’s expression softened further. “I’m sure I can find the time ma’am.” He decided against telling Eda he’d never left America, and honestly had no idea where Brazil or Africa were. With Maria he had only ever gone as far as the boarder of Mexico and as a human hadn’t even finished school. He couldn’t begin to imagine what a meerkat was, and had constructed a Frankenstein’s monster of a sort of rat in his mind.

“I meant I never asked if you wanted to look for Alice with me.” She brushed the hair out of her face as the wind picked up and focused on the calm Jasper was putting out. Eda hadn’t thought of asking if he was still involved with someone from the Southern wars and distracted herself from thinking of the possibility. She would rather not meet Maria. “Do you have a coven? I realise I’ve just been dragging you along.”

He laughed as if she’d told a joke, shaking his head. “I don’t have a coven.” Eda hoped he didn’t catch the small burst of relief. He had, but misinterpreted it as her being relieved he would assist the search. “I’ll help find your friend.”

Obviously he was under the impression she was much closer to Alice than she was. Although the girl had been somehow endearing, Eda didn’t consider her a friend just yet. “I actually only met her this morning, about half an hour before I met you.” He nodded for her to continue. “She ambushed me and started telling me about this vision she’d had.”

“Was it about what’s in Washington, the Cullens?”

“It’s a weird one,” she warned.

“I think I can handle weird.”

Sighing, Eda prepared for his reaction. “Apparently we’re going to find the Cullens, and join them.” When she said it like that it sounded like a cult. “There’s Carlisle, Esme, Edward, Rosalie and Emmett waiting for us… According to Alice we’re going to become one big happy family.” All the outward response he gave was raising his eyebrows in intrigue, seemingly taking the prediction easier than she had. “She said me and her would be best friends.” _Sisters_ _even,_ Eda carried on mentally, jolted by Jasper’s untroubled expression. It made her mull over the possibility that she was taking Alice’s zany manner too sharply. Although it was uncommon, both Jasper and herself were proof that vampires did sometimes develop supernatural abilities. Laughing softly to herself Eda tried to sound positive. “She’s so hyperactive though. Even for us- her energy, it’s just endless. She didn’t stop dancing once the whole time.” To go along with Alice brainlessly didn't sit right with her though.

In reality he was just as fidgety on the inside. There had been a not too distant chapter of his life when Jasper would have ripped to shreds anyone who told him where to go and when, it had left its mark. “Well now I want to find her even more, I’m a fool for a good emotional climate.” It was only a half lie, he really was easily swayed by a pleasant orbit.

 _Is that why you’re sticking around?_ Eda wanted to ask him, but wasn’t ready to open herself up to that kind of rejection. So instead she clicked a picture of the trees.

“Do you have a coven, or a mate?” 

“Nope,” Eda chimed popping the P, unaware of the enormous effort Jasper was putting into shielding his own rush of relief from her. “I used to have a coven of sorts- but it didn’t really work out.” Centuries of forced healing made it possible for Eda not to submit to the heartbreak, barely a blimp to Jasper, though the stain gnawed at the back of her mind. Taking a deep breath in, she gazed up at the sky and awaited the down pour that would soon fall. Heeding the involuntary warning she emitted, he chose not to push the subject any further for now.

Though they ease into walking in comfortable silence, Jasper could feel the tension building within Eda and stayed mindful of how it was rippling within him. Unlike Eda, Jasper had yet to see Alice and so wasn’t whole-heartedly sold on following the pixie’s (as Eda had called her) story without evidence. He justified his willingness of doing that exact thing for the woman beside him with the charming quality of her emotions. For the time being, Jasper was transfixed by the way she smelt the air and smiled up at the clouds thickening overhead, shutting her eyes in an attempt at fixating on the scent.

Eda’s smile faltered at the sound of a bird shrieking in alarm when it accidentally almost flew into them, and a gloom fell over her for the first time since Jasper had met her, the brazen snugness of the emotion disturbing him. When they met Jasper had inferred she had a naturally bright orbit, but now he could see that the light was habitually overshadowed. “What's wrong?” She started to shake her head so he tapped his temple at her. "Ma’am I can tell something's botherin' you. Can't lie to an empath."

Sighing Eda came to a stop, knowing there was no avoiding this and gestured to an earthworm near their feet. It was wiggling away from them, brought to the surface by the threat of rain and clearly wishing it hadn’t. "Not even a worm can stand to be near our kind." The squirming intensified as she crouched closer to it.

Jasper hunched down with her. "Why would you want to keep company with a worm?" He asked, a smile in his voice and intending to repair Eda’s buoyant temperament without using his gift, a new want for him but he was determined nevertheless in maintaining this reality around him.

“That's not the point.” Normally she’d be happy Jasper was trying to joke with her, but at the moment her mood was melancholy and kept her eyes to the ground. “I miss seeing birds,” Eda admitted finally. “I miss bumblebees. I miss being able to pet dogs.” Even though she couldn’t remember ever actually petting a dog before, from watching humans interact with them she knew it made everyone involved delighted. She couldn't torture those eternally jovial creatures with her presence, never mind her touch.

Jasper thought it over, devising a scheme that might remedy both his problems. "If it’s a puppy y’want I’m sure I could lasso a werewolf child.”

That made her look up at him, and giggle when she saw it was a legitimate offer. She played along, “for me?”

He mirrored her slow grin as the warmth returned, taking pride in knowing it was a real reaction to him and not his influence. That meant something to Jasper though he wasn’t sure what exactly. “Yes, but it’d be your responsibility to clean up after it.” With the conflict resolved the pair resumed their walking, leaving the worm in peace.

He feels a haze from Eda, an emotion he’s unfamiliar with. It’s light, airy, but dynamic and solid in the same moment. It’s the first time he’s felt it before, the glow leaking into him and becoming his own. It makes him wish for things. “What is that you’re feeling?” Jasper asks quietly, confused but liking whatever it was.

She begins sorting through her emotions and wonders what in the world could be new to an empath. “Happiness?” Eda guesses, grasping at straws when she finds nothing out of the ordinary.

“No I know that one. It’s…” How could he describe the taste and texture of a feeling? “It’s like happiness,” Jasper says at last nodding to himself. “Eager kind of... Like waiting, but sweeter?”

Eda’d never had to analyse how her emotions felt so was having a hard time trying to categorise them, but came up with one that just might fit. “Hope?”

His steps stutter and she notices immediately that the rhythm is off. “Yes...”

He’s frowning but beaming at the same time, and Eda waits patiently to let him to work through whatever he was struggling with, unsettled at the idea of Jasper never knowing hope. Throughout his whole time with Maria, leaving that cycle, the time between then and now, did he not once have something to be hopeful for?

“That’s it… It’s hope.” Now the feeling has a name it brightens as if called forwards, and a smile so wide it might crack his face appears. “What're you hopin’ for?”

 _That you’ll stay,_ Eda almost says but thinks better of it, leading with something more reasonable. “… I hope Alice is leading us to somewhere that’s good for us, that’s safe. Carlisle’s a dear friend of mine, I think you’ll like him. He’s a very compassionate man, a doctor for the mortals if you can believe it. Carlisle only ever sees the best in people… I have heard of his family through his letters but I have yet to meet them. I'm hoping they're as welcoming as him.”

Understanding and realising he hopes for the same things, Jasper can’t help narrowing his eyes at Eda’s hat. “Y’know your hat’s on backwards?” He asks, not wanting to cause offence if it was intentional. _You never mess with another cowboy’s hat_ , Jasper had heard someone tell him.

“Backwards?” She whispered, gently taking it off and studying it, flipping it to compare both sides. “How do you tell the difference?” Eda hadn’t been aware there even was a front and a back.

“These are called the dents,” Jasper pointed to the two grooves on the top of the hat, “they’re for holdin’. They always go at the front.” She put it back on, feeling instantly how much more comfortable it was this way, smiling up at him.

“Yeehaw!” Eda cheers, tipping her hat at a tree as she passed. "Evenin' ma'am," she said at it in an exaggeration of his own accent, an almost unnoticeable skip in her step.

Almost unnoticeable, because Jasper picked up on the extra bounce immediately and was adamant he’d made the right choice by saying he’d stick around, seeing the potential of a playful side to Eda. He wants to see more. Needs to see more. He wants to make her howl with laughter without the use of his gift, Jasper realises, as a thanks for showing him hope. “Now all you’re missin’ is a horse to ride on.”

She couldn’t stop the sideways smirk she sends him, catching herself a tick too late but not turning away when he chuckles at the mischievous glint. “You better get started on catching that werewolf.” A menacing crash of thunder sounds above, distant but with its path set their way. Eda can pin point the exact moment rain leaves the clouds as she turns her attention to the skies. “It must be 6 o'clock.”

“She could have at least offered to buy you an umbrella.” The first drop hits Eda square in the face and she blinks at the blow, though made no move to avoid the next one apart from putting her hat and the camera in her case. “I wouldn’t mind if you used my jacket,” Jasper says, watching Eda and ignoring the way he’s getting soaked. “For the rain.” The hat fit perfectly inside her case. It probably had something to do with Alice. That pixie had an awful lot to answer for when they found her.

Letting out a laugh, she closed her eyes as the down pour intensified. “Do you want it back?”

“No ma’am, I needed a shower anyways.” Eda breathed easy, another wave of tranquillity radiating from her. “So what’s Washington like this time of year?”

“From what I’ve heard it’s pretty crowded. But Forks is a little town in the middle of a forest mountain rage, less than 10,000 people I think. Very rural. Good as place as any for our kind.” Despite currently not being able to see them, Eda was concerned about his eyes. There was no way they could arrive at Forks without hunting first. “How’s a detour sound?” They would have to feed before they came across more humans.

“A detour?”

“I know you’re just helping me find Alice, but we’ve got plenty of time.”

He hummed, weighing it up. “So where to?” Jasper asked, as close to carefree as he could manage.

She appreciated the effort. “Is that a yes?”

“Sure.”

“Well in that case it’s your choice.”

He thought about all the possibilities. “I’d like to see the ocean,” he admits. Eda thought it was sweet, and can’t wait to put it into action. “But right now I’m fixin’ to learn how to hunt with this diet of yours.”

“That could be arranged.”


	15. Let's Get This Bread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 15/06/2020 - Just in case anyone missed it or you’re a returning reader (luv u btw), it’s currently late September instead of summer like originally. It's still 1948. And did I really really rewrite every chapter from this one to the end just because I got an idea about one of them?… Damn right I did. Because I’m a slut for Eda and Jasper and I only want to bring them happiness.

Eda led him away from the dense forest and into thin yet sturdy pine woods, covered with lichens and home to better prey than song birds and squirrels (though they were still present). The wider spaced trees drew bigger and better tasting animals, which was precisely what she wanted. Above, the storm had more access to soak them with the lacking canopy, having continued well into the night when the flushes of orange became purple. The grasses and wild-flowers were replaced with hip height ferns so thick that a human would have found it impossible to trudge through.

Reaching a point in the woodland that seemed just right to Eda, she stopped and turned to Jasper. “Let’s get started.” How could she explain this? It wasn’t that much different than his current diet so there wasn’t much to say. “It’s just like hunting a mortal, only they put up more of a fight.” When he only nodded in response she decided there was no better way to learn than to let him loose, and took a deep breath to smell the air. The scent was murky beneath the vegetation: pine, rain, rotting trees, mushrooms, building lightning, maple sap. She sniffed again, ignoring the flash of light that was punctuated with a heavier down pour. Aiming for the faint but fast heartbeats around her, Eda began to categorise them: bird, rats, snake, another bird too small to eat- deer.

Copying her, Jasper took a whiff though was unsure what exactly he was searching for.

“Do you smell that?” She whispered.

He frowned but matched her volume. “What am I looking for?”

“Deer." Spinning around, she could just make out antlers less than quarter of a mile ahead. It was grazing, totally relaxed despite the rain. “That deer.” She pointed at it for Jasper who snapped to attention. The stag raised its head and locked eyes with Eda, barely able to see above the shrubs, and sprang into the air in fright before turning tail.

“Ready?” Jasper asked, only half conscious of the step forwards he took as the natural impulse to chase hit.

“You bet,” she said back, narrowing her eyes and grinning as a risky idea came to her.

Purposely trying to wind him up, Eda blurred after it, already zig-zagging after their prey before Jasper even noticed she was gone. Knowing he’d come after her, Eda threw her head back in glee when he gave a rumble at her childish prank. Just as predicted Jasper raced her, unable to resist his competitive streak, and pumped his arms to overtake Eda. She shouted a curse at him but couldn’t pass as they jumped over pitfalls and hidden fallen trees, attempting to trip each other on the terrain. Their ringing joy motivated the stag to dash nimbly between trees for its life as they frolicked in the wrong direction, too occupied with their game to care. Puzzlingly, Jasper slowed to allow her to catch up, and when she frowned in confusion he tossed a handful of fern at her. She stuck out her tongue at him, grabbing a fallen branch and flinging it at his leg to try and unbalance him, although it did little.

As the hunt truly began and Jasper’s expression grew stony Eda trailed behind, keeping her distance while he accelerated. She sensed Jasper would be a great example of exactly how territorial vampires got over blood and unequivocally did not want to get involved in that, especially when they had become such fast friends.

Skidding to stop, she watched as he pounced onto the stag, hauling it to the ground with both hands on its antlers. Eda observed him at what she knew was the most vulnerable state a vampire could be in, interested to see what it would reveal about Jasper.

Once again Eda had been right: he was ferocious when eating. Jasper clamped down on the stag’s throat and latched on, but then pulled back and ripped at the flesh when he wasn’t satisfied with the flow before resuming. The stag let out a voiceless cry, gurgling when Jasper gritted his fangs together within its neck. She felt sorry for the humans he fed on. Of course Eda had known Jasper was so much more than the even-tempered polite Southern gentleman she’d met this afternoon. But the bombshell of exactly how much had been camouflaged hadn’t landed until now. Violence came instinctively, edged on cruel as the stag kicked out helplessly when he gripped its antlers so hard they broke. Eda could see what had drawn Maria in: lawless savagery fused with magnetic charisma. What an enticing human Major Jasper Whitlock must have been.

When he’d had his fill and the stag was no longer breathing, Jasper raised his head. He’d managed to spill blood down his shirt, carried all the way to his lap by the persistent storm. Even the tips of his hair had gotten dipped in the liquid and now clung to his cheeks. Messy.

Eda wondered how he was ever satisfied with half his meal currently either running down his chin or torso. “Have you eaten?” Jasper asked shyly, teeth clenched as the smell of blood haunted him, looking like any humans worst nightmare.

The gruff silkiness contrasted with the wild look in his eyes. “Not yet,” Eda croaked back, defying the call to drink. She felt almost human and understood how the mortals had made bogeymen of vampires; vampires like Jasper. He didn’t look himself as he twitched and shivered, kneeling over the still warm corpse, knowing there was blood drenching him but unable to feast from it as it mixed with the rain.

Those crazed eyes stared widely at her, paralysing her in spite of the lack of fear they stirred up. It was something else, something not totally foreign, something that shouldn’t be felt when you’re with an empath.

Jasper felt it rippling from her but brushed it off, knowing any vampire would be craving the blood regardless if the stuff coating him would make them sick if consumed. Nodding to himself, Jasper stood and took a step her way, not noticing that the feeling lingered.

Breathing heavy and not wanting to give Jasper a chance to realise what she was feeling, Eda darted away on the scent of a doe. Jasper squinted after her, losing sight of her between the trees.

He was beginning to think Eda’d abandoned him, when he smelt the deer, different to the stag but undoubtedly the same species. It wasn’t difficult to follow the path, and he began to jog as the smell got more defined; easier to track now he knew the taste. Animals weren’t as good as humans but it still served the same purpose, and the burning was tolerable.

Jasper almost didn’t see Eda when he passed by, draped over the doe and hidden under a cape of ferns.

She glanced up at the sound of someone approaching and growled on instinct, only just making out that it was Jasper and continuing to drink.

Smirking at the surprisingly animalistic noise, he took a couple strides back to watch and compare. Eda’s still rough with her food but she doesn’t shred like Jasper, instead biting with precision to get at the blood as quickly as she could. She doesn’t waste but a single drop, and when she’s finished shields her face from the rain, smearing it across her chin when she wipes her face. The only other sign she’d even eaten was the stained red of her lips.

“You don’t have to wait for me,” Eda tells him as she stands up, pleased that she’d managed to close her mind to the feeling.

Still grinning, Jasper marvels at how lethal Eda looks when she’s half frenzied, licking her teeth to gather the blood. “I know ma’am.”

They hunt an additional deer each, and Jasper's less aggressive with his next catch.

Having drunk their fill, the pair stroll through the trees together, remarking the bats that squeak over head when the rain eventually ceases. Autumn was well underway in the forests of the earth, Eda’s second favourite because of the soft blend from green to yellow to red to brown. So many colours happening at once, perfectly in sync but also at different stages to create a masterpiece of a painting, made of blotches of warmth all woven from the same thread. It was hard to believe the change wasn’t man-made.

She’s watching an American robin pick at some berries, and Jasper follows her gaze eager to see what’s making her beam, frowning when he sees it’s just a little bird. “Do you… want one?” He asks, still fresh hunting instincts leaking through his words.

The tone made her edgey, and confused, hoping he wasn’t about to snatch the bird. “What?”

“Do you want me to get you a bird?” He asks again, this time louder as if the issue was that she couldn’t hear him.

“Uhh, no, thank you." Regardless of how unusual the offer had been, she can still appreciate the gesture. Jasper nodded to himself, making note that she preferred to admire tiny creatures like the bird from a distance and thinking what else that select fondness extended to. “Would you like to play a human game I learnt instead?”

“A game?” She nodded back at him, the beginning of a skip in her step as the excitement grows. “Alright...”

Eda grins as the fun begins.

“Poke,” Eda said punctuating it with a soft poke at his shoulder. Jasper looked down at her bemused and not understanding. So she did it again. “Poke!” She turned and run away, hoping he’d get the hint.

Her delight rang within him, and he smiled as he let himself give in the urge to chase her, sprinting after her and poking her between the shoulder blade as he passed. “Poke!”

It was settled between them that Jasper was faster than her on land so Eda improvised, working to her own strengths and leaped forwards at him. “Poke!” She squeaked as she flew over him, tapping the crown of his head.

In return he managed to swipe at her calf as it went over his head a second later, shouting, “poke!”

They play for miles like schoolchildren, leap-froging over each other to get the lead. Jasper revels in the novel experience and the emotions it brings them both, promising himself to discover more of these human games if only to play them with Eda.

Eda's simply happy to have someone to play games with, it's been a dreadfully long time since she'd played at all.


	16. Swimming

In the forest the sky vanishes almost completely, only a few fragments remain like scattered pieces of an impossible jigsaw. The sun breaks through the cracks in the thicket in both brilliant and shadowy shows, lighting up sides of the two vampires’ faces occasionally as they made their way through. The pines are several houses tall and reach toward the golden rays. A new smile writes itself across Eda’s face, semi-illuminated by the dappled light, at being back where she feels most at home. The sentiment is reflected off Jasper who amplifies it without meaning to solely by walking beside her, making her want to stay there forever. Outside the trees is the powerful beams of autumn, but in here everything is cool and the colours have the softness of that time just before twilight. The dirt path ahead of them is decorated with outgrown roots, wild flowers, moss and fallen leaves that lay silently beneath their steps. It’s soft, damp, yet their bare feet come away only almost dry and soil caked. They are heading towards the sound of a moving current that flows quietly ahead, it has the same hypnotic quality as music.

The air is rich with the fragrance of moss and flora. Even so many hours after the rains have passed the soil remains wet, slowly releasing its heady fog. Each breath is like water, fresh and cleansing.

The forest hums with life preparing for the coming winter. Never is the woodland still, though it is quieter than any city street for sure. There are birds above calling, pecking for grubs. There’s movement of mammals, mostly small, sometimes not. Birdsong comes in lulls and bursts, serenading and working together as well as any improvised melody could. Eda gazes up at the canopy searching for them gleefully, but the birds scatter as fast as they’re spotted. That doesn’t keep her from pointing them out to Jasper next to her and telling him their names. And though he usually sees them at the same time as her (and sometimes even before) he’s captivated by the sight of her rushing to take their pictures while talking passionately about blue jays, and learns they’re surprisingly vicious little creatures.

He doesn’t march anymore, the tranquillity of being in Eda’s sparkling orbit brings him away from that ledge of hyper-alertness. For the first time in longer than he cares to remember he’s somewhere close to calm. Not quite, but the knowledge that he would hear a stranger’s approach from far away over the quiet of the scene around him takes the edge off. They’d been travelling all night and all day, accomplishing as much of their journey as possible through the forests, both to avoid humans and because Jasper secretly relished in the warmth she gave off whenever they returned to Mother Natures’ kingdoms. He finds himself watching her and the easy smile on her face: she loves the animals so much, and he asks if she feels guilty about eating them. She says she does but then chuckles and tells him she’d rather kill a deer than a human. He isn’t completely sure why she laughs, but joins in anyway because he’s never had excuses to do so this often.

The pair followed a bend in the trail and came upon the river they had been searching for. It was two times too wide for a human to cross, and deceivingly deep. Its sedated current created a rippling mirror effect, reflecting the hues of orange from the swaying trees above. The thin bank was made of small multi-coloured pebbles and soft soil, blending into the delicate yellow and purple wild-flowers spouting from the grass. Dragon flies buzzed around the surface, attracting fish to flop into the air as they tried to catch the metallic blue finery. She snapped a picture, capturing the spot in eternity.

Jasper took off his bloodied shirt and Eda couldn’t help but peek at him from the corner of her eye.

His skin looked plucked and snagged. There were rings around his shoulders where he'd reattached his arms with venom so they'd heal quicker, so he could return to the fight that had separated them. A large webbed patch on the side of his ribs looked like he'd been burnt. She could make out small dints around the centre of his chest: finger prints, someone had tried to rip his heart out and had gotten so close they had broken the skin. For a moment she was angry, then she thought about how whoever’s work it was were almost certainly long dead, and relaxed. From the rumours she’d heard no one fought against Jasper and lived to tell the tale.

She realised then he’d been watching her, and swiftly turned her back to him.

“Aw, don’t be gettin’ all embarrassed on me now darlin’.”

 _Damn empath_ , she thought shaking her head at the nickname. “Back in my day a gentleman would have at least asked before undressing in front of a lady.”

Under his breath Jasper mumbled, “never said I was a gentleman.” Her eyes widened at the sound his classic Texan belt made as he took off his trousers, and would later be thankful that he had continued the human habit of wearing underwear. “And whoever’s been callin’ you a lady is a liar,” he told her, louder and clearly meant for her to hear this time.

“Hey!” Jasper cackled like she’d never heard him before, loud and boyish, and she twirled back to him with a fake scowl. “Fuck you.” He tilted his head to look at her under his eyebrows in response, still smirking. She rolled her eyes at him, and much to his delight shot him a wink.

Putting her case down by the tree line, Eda went to the waters edge and took a few steps until it came to her knees, bunching her dress in both hands so it was raised to her mid thigh (aware that Jasper was behind her and wanting to keep her dignity). To a human the water must have been freezing, but to her it was warm. The fry that had been hiding in the shallows darted down stream away from the disturbance. Eda was just glad she hadn’t felt anything slimy like an eel or a worm.

Jasper took a stride back and was about to dive in, when he looked to Eda ruffling the bottom of her dress to watch her own reflection. “Do you have a swim suit in that brief case of yours?”

“I’m afraid not.” He thought it over then blurred back into the forest, picking up a fallen tree and carefully manoeuvring it back to the river bank. It could have been as old as him, and the wood creaked unhappily at being plucked from its presumed grave. “And what are you gonna do with that?” He grinned at her question, wading through the gentle current and putting the monstrous trunk down across the river like a bridge, shifting it back and forth to fix it in place: hovering an inch above the surface to create a dry perch.

Chest deep in water, he turned to Eda and dipped his head. “For you ma’am.”

She couldn’t believe what had just happened, grateful she couldn’t do something stupid like blush, teasing him playfully, “and you said you weren’t a gentleman.”

After hopping onto the tree and tip toeing across it, she deemed it sturdy enough. Keeping her dress raised she sat on a partially flat section of the truck and dangled her legs in the water. Jasper was motionless waiting her reaction. Getting an idea, she focused and pushed her gratitude to the front of her mind. A sweet smile crept along his face as he felt it and began bouncing along the river bed. Eda filed the method away now she knew it worked.

Crossing her arms on her lap, she watched him attempt to float and consequently sink right to the bottom like a brick.

Still as a statue, he settled cross legged on the bottom and the fish eventually returned. None came close, sensing a predator was near, but they forget he isn’t just a rock and dash by.

He comes back up for unnecessary air and swims over next to her, laying his arms over the tree to keep himself afloat.

Droplets rain from Jasper's hair, and he runs a hand through it to push it out of his eyes. His face is clean of blood and dirt, and Eda can see immortality suits him twofold than she first thought, able to see what Jasper looks like beneath the now gone layer of grime.

She splashes him with a flick of her hand and he blinks at the spray but doesn’t move. “What are you, five?”

Smirking down at him, she kicks her legs leisurely. “Yeah five heads taller than you.”

He looks up at her mischievously, grabbing her feet and pushing up to make her fall back. She gripped the tree and great clumps of bark came away, drifting down stream. “Wow Eda... I’ve never known such a clumsy vampire before,” he says with false surprise at the ripples made from her hitting the water.

Eda’s eyes resurfaces on his side of the trunk, hair veiling her face limply and glistening in the water like smoke. Jasper considers the potential that the stories of sirens he heard as a human were really all just her.

“You’re lucky I can’t drown you,” she hissed, though there was no real menace behind it. He tried to picture Eda with red eyes, lurking the oceans for unfortunate sailors naive enough to obey her cooing; then remembered he’d taken up residence by her side searching for a physic he’d still yet to meet.

Suddenly the possibility seems almost too real. “You couldn’t reach,” he teased.

“You’ve sunk low enough.” Eda’s still smiling as she pushed the hair out of her face.

Gaping his mouth open with mock offence he flicked water at her. “I must be in a pretty big ditch in that case.”

She debated giving him a weak shock, but instead stuck her tongue out at him and held onto the tree with one hand.

Deciding to be the bigger person (literally) and not retaliate, Jasper looked at his reflection on the surface. “How’re my eyes lookin’?” He asked turning back to her.

Eda examined them and noticed the dewdrops clinging to his eyelashes. “They’re a little orange, but they’ll get lighter in about 3 weeks if you feed regularly. Then they’ll go yellow.”

“If they go anythin’ as pretty as yours I’m sold,” he flirted playfully, throwing her a wink like she had before.

Rolling her eyes and muttering, “such a flirt,” Eda splashed him again; never more glad of her vampire condition and pushing down the embarrassment she knows Jasper’s searching for. “Bet I’d beat you in a race.”

Obviously she had underestimated his competitive nature, as he became almost giddy, plunging down and beginning the contest before he’d even officially agreed to it. Eda flashed after him, dead set on besting him this time.

They streaked along the bottom, kicking up mud and creating waves above. At first her dress dragged, regardless of how loudly Jasper refused to accept that excuse, and causes her to lose the first few goes. After demanding a rematch, and getting used to the dress and compensating, Eda began to win. It was dark by the time she called the thing off, claiming that while they had forever, they did have to be in Forks before the turn of the century.

Staying partially submerged, the pair finned their arms to keep their heads above water. In the purple darkness they probably looked a little spooky, almost invisible. “Hey can you do me a favour?” Eda asked, scheming.

Jasper was still attempting to float without having to use his arms, struggling to speak through bubbles. “I’ve already killed for you twice this week but carry on.”

“Yeah you really savoured that deer for me didn’t you.” He stopped bouncing and looked to her, unfazed by the sarcasm. “Can you catch me a fish? I want to see you try one.”

Jasper dived and a second later resurfaced with a large trout flapping in his hand. “How’s fish?” He asked, frowning as it thrashed and sprayed water at him with its tail.

“Better than lizards.” Seeing her grin he took a hesitant bite, knowing he was likely about to be pranked somehow. The second the bitter liquid touched his lips he gagged and flung the trout back into the river. Eda’s head fell back laughing as he gargled and spat trying to clean his taste buds of the fish.

Flicking water at her, Jasper echoed lowly, “better than lizards huh?”

“Anything cold blooded or fish is a little…” He shot her a half hearted dirty look. “Well you already know.”

“What 'bout butterflies?” Jasper asked, not expecting an answer.

She had one. “They taste bad.”

“Pardon?”

“They taste bad,” she repeated, letting herself drop below the surface to begin a new game.

They played in the river until the sun raises, chasing each other along the twists and bends until they’d entered open ocean. Not wanting to stray too far from their path to Washington, the pair agreed to return to where Eda had left her case. Jasper makes it a competition and the head start he gained from cheating means he wins this time, amused by her flickers of annoyance at his antics though they quickly disappear again within her bright emotions.

At dawn they’re sitting beside each other on the trunk dripping dry, watching the blazing sun tint the forest deep shades of red and pink through the cracks in the canopy. It signalled a beginning, and woke the birds who began preaching their love to each other. The water appeared to have caught fire, reflecting the ruby tones and sending glittering dots onto the water as the vampires shone.

Jasper's lounging, leaning back on his elbows when he gets a sense of deja vu. “This reminds me of when I was human,” he mutters to no one, trying to understand the grainy images of a younger version of himself watching day break with a boy who looked a little like him. Did he have a cousin? “I think we had a creek near our house when I was a kid, like this,” he nodded at the scene in front of them.

“You’ll have to show me one day,” she whispered, not wanting to break the trance she was in. The contrast of the sky against the vegetation still spellbinding after hundreds of years, though that wasn't what she was drawn to. Eda was gazing wide eyed at the little rainbows bouncing off her scars in quivering lines, looking like thick brands of light in the sun.

He shook his head. “I can’t go to Texas.”

“Why not?” Eda asked already guessing the answer, focusing on Jasper and trying to decode his expression. Like her, his scars shined brighter than the unmarked skin, but the frequency of them made him appear like he was tied up in lighting, the netted patch on his ribs acted as a mirror and glowed with each shallow breath. He seemed relaxed, but his eyebrows had flattened into a small frown betraying his tension. “If it’s Maria we could always just kill her?” She was only half joking. “I’d wager we could take her- if you wanted I mean?”

He chuckled darkly, turning to look at her and seeing she was watching him. Jasper wasn’t exactly opposed to murdering his creator. Maybe they’d have to make another detour. “I’d put money on it, if you’re serious.” She nodded slightly, willing to join. “With your sharp tongue we’d have the advantage.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment cowboy.” Eda was just glad he’d stopped frowning, stashing away the agreement in the back of her mind.

Jasper huffed a laugh, trying to absorb the pleasant emotions in preparation for her reaction. “So… you know about Maria?”

“I’ve heard rumours. I know you used to be in her army,” she told him honestly, keeping a close eye on his face and rewording her sentences carefully. “That you were very successful at it.” Eda had been going to say _that you were good at it_ , but reminded herself that there was no well done for the things they’d been through.

Jasper was open to share his story with her, and nodded. “I was her second in command, trained her newborns and disposed of them when their year was up.” He spoke quietly, like he was trying to hide the words as he was saying them. He hadn’t told anyone about his time with Maria before. “I thought she loved me. But I read her wrong. She just loved how I never lost a fight, how I’d keep goin’ until we won even if I was barely standing by the end of it... But she didn’t love me.”

While Eda listened, she began regretting not sticking around America to meet Jasper when she’d first heard about him; even though she knew that encounter probably wouldn’t have gone as well as the current one Alice had lead her to. She knew from personal experience how difficult it was to leave that cycle. “How did you get out?” Eda asked quietly, not wanting to prod too hard.

He didn’t object. “I become friends with a newborn, Peter, and he fell in love with another called Charlotte. That’s how I realised she wasn’t...” _in love with me_. It had been a crushing discovery to have his reality questioned, and afterwards he had been unable to see it with the rose tinted glasses he’d evolved to survive. “When Charlotte’s year was up I was meant to destroy her, but Peter told her to run before I got to her. They ran away together and I let them go, pretended I hadn’t seen.” Jasper didn’t tell her about how he had been punished when Maria realised; chained up, beaten and starved for weeks. After he’d been driven psychotic with thirst, she had him carried out to the base of one of her more powerful enemies. She told him to kill them all and he did, much to her disappointment. “They came back a few years later and told me what it was like outside the war. I didn’t know there was another way and left with them right then and there. We stayed as a coven for a while.” He’d accidentally made them depressed, almost ruined their relationship, and he’d forced himself to bid them goodbye. It had been for the best. “I still consider them my brother and sister even though I’m sure they’re more than unhappy with me.” She tilted her head in question. “I haven’t contacted them since.”

“Why not?” Eda asked slowly, trying not to be nosy but still interested.

“Maria sends scouts for me, trying to convince me to go back. Sometimes vampires tryin’a made a name for themselves come lookin’ for me. I couldn’t bring that trouble to their doorstep,” he replied sadly, straightening up and peeking at Eda’s face through his curtain of hair.

She digested what Jasper had told her, unsure how to convey how much she empathised with him. He wasn’t distressed per say, and the human action of physically comforting him with a pat on the shoulder didn’t fit. But recognising the level of trust for him to tell her so much about himself, Eda decided it was her turn to return the favour and looked back to the fading sunrise.

“When I was at war,” she began, “Arrius, my maker, would force me to torture the new recruits into submission. I trained his newborns, like you did. I wasn’t allowed to use my power when I taught them…” Glancing back to Jasper, she saw he was listening attentively through the slits in his mane. Unknown to her this was the first time he’d met anyone that could truly understand instead of just pitying him, and tried not to react outwardly as she continued. “I was his attack dog. I'd lead the newborns into battle and slaughter anything that moved until I was ordered to stop.” She breathed deeply; it had been a long time since she’d talked about the wars in such detail. The only person that had reached this stage of her story was Sara, but she hadn’t needed to actually say it out loud to her. “He told us that the sun would kill us to keep me in the dark, said we were lucky he was so benevolent.” Jasper felt the disgust behind her scoff, saw the way her hands trembled before she clenched them shut. He thought there might be more that she wasn't telling him, something awful. "The worst part was I enjoyed the fighting. It was a simple way of life.” Eda choose to keep the actual worst part to herself, to not burden him with the knowledge. 

“We’re very similar,” Jasper moused to himself although she heard. If they had met when he had been under Maria’s control what would have happened? It was doubtful that in the state of mind he had been in at the time he would have welcomed her company as he had now. Who would have won? He blinked the thought away: didn’t want to know. “Does it get easier?…. Does it ever go away?” Jasper asked almost too low for her to catch.

“You learn to block out the memories eventually.” He took comfort in that, nodding to himself at the thought that one day he wouldn’t be half stuck in the past. Eda felt him projecting, and shook her head against the artificial self-loathing that pulsed through her. It was overwhelmingly like what she’d felt in those first years of freedom. “You can’t keep blaming yourself. Just blame yourself once and be done with it.”

He took in her advise, though he wasn’t sure how to apply it to his many, many mistakes. “When we met, you said the Volturi ended the wars?” Jasper asked, needing to distract himself from replaying those mistakes and pushing his hair away from his face.

“Yes, but I got away before that. I became friends with a newborn called Sara.” _My own personal sun_ Eda remembered calling her. “She cared so deeply about everything. She was the first person to show me kindness. She refused to fight so I was ordered to destroy her, but instead I killed my maker and ran away with her.”

Jasper felt her heartache and understood how this was going to end, prompting her gently when Eda went silent, “how bad was it?”

“She was murdered less than a year after we left by a gang of nomads looking for some fun.” Sensing she was still grieving, Jasper sent a heavy dose of peace at her, making her so calm and comfortable that Eda’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and turned her boneless, sending her backwards off the trunk.

She was saved only by Jasper catching her waist, and had to slouch into his shoulder to keep herself from falling off the tree bridge as she came as close to passing out as a vampire could. “Woah there cowboy,” she chucked at him breathlessly, trying to get her spine to work. It was harder than expected with Jasper’s arm around her back. Eda patted his knee as a signal to rein in his influence, managing to lift her head from his shoulder. “This happened over 500 years ago, no need to worry.” Replacing her hands in her lap, and waiting for him to get the message, Eda tried to absorb the calm to save it for later.

He eased up on his projecting and removed his arm from around her, though she stayed beside him. The proximity wasn't nearly as repulsive as she'd expected, hardly at all actually; the intense morning sun had made him warm.

“Can I ask you… how'd it feel, getting revenge on him?”

“It felt good. Satisfying.” Jasper felt the pride, and could see how big of a crescendo it had been at the time. “I think if I’d let him live I’d always be paranoid about him coming back for me.” It was already bad enough and the bastard was dead, Eda couldn’t imagine what it would be like if he was still alive. She couldn’t imagine what Jasper felt, especially since Maria apparently liked to keep tabs on him.

She guessed they couldn’t stay in the river all day again, such a shame. It was so mesmerising, she feared it would close up and never be found again once they left. “Well I need to go into town and find some place to throw this.” They both glanced down to her dress. It had dried enough so it wasn’t sticking uncomfortably to her any more, but there were crispy patches of green algae and mud straining it that would be too hard to get out without the right supplies- which she didn’t have. “We should probably get you a change of clothes as well, you’re still covered in blood.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Standing up and walking to her case, she busied herself getting out the spare dress to keep from staring at Jasper coming off the bridge. Even though she had spent all night looking at him, it was still a good sight to get used to. He shook his head like a dog, and turned his back to her so she could get changed. Shaking the dirt off his own clothes, Jasper dressed quickly and tried to fix his hair in the reflection on the water.

She called to him to let him know he could turn again and he silently praised the change in outfits. The now ruined dress had been almost suburban, but this one was definitely a charmer (charmed him anyway). The light material fitted close to her waist and was low cut for the era, still knee-length: a trend for Eda it seemed though he didn’t comment, knowing it wasn’t his place to notice things like that. The colour matched her glowing golden eyes.

“Let’s get a wiggle on, I don’t think these clouds will last long.” She brought him back to the present, and put on the hat Alice had given her as she trekked through the woods. Almost forgetting, Eda took one last picture of the river in hopes of finding it again, not minding that he was stood smiling in the centre of the shot. Jasper followed her, quietly admiring the flowy nature of the hem and jogging ahead to take a picture of her with the water as a backdrop.

Neither remarked how they didn't need three pictures of the same place to remember the slice of heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just *chef kisses*


	17. Momma, Just Killed A (Wo)Man

Shopping was more complicated than Eda’d first imagined it to be; it had taken both less and more time than they thought it should to find Jasper a clean shirt and a pair trousers.

In the state he was in there was no way Jasper could accompany her even if he closed his long coat: the stains pooled around his knees. So he had to wait on the edge of the tree line, nobly promising to guard her case against swindlers. She had rolled her eyes at his clowning, and the high-jinks unquestionably awaiting her return. Said line was only two blocks away in the little town they’d come across, and Eda had matched his buffoonery and vowed not to dawdle.

Eda had never shopped for a man before, and as he had never been shopping for himself as a vampire was none the wiser on his sizing. This wasn’t aided by the fact that he’d unhelpfully tore out the labels in his shirt when he’d acquired it without even glancing at the measurements (defending himself by saying the sensation had been annoying), though the one on his trousers remained up until he’d ripped that one out for her to read.

Armed with only the memory of the exceedingly faded label and a visual estimate, Eda went in search for a store that had what he needed. She didn’t have to look as far as she expected she would in a country relatively fresh out of a world war. It wasn’t surprising how small the men’s section was though, a sad reminder of the impacts it had left. Thinking about the few men of Jasper’s physical age Eda had seen in the past year, she began to browse the rack, yes single rack, unsure what to buy. He hadn’t expressed a preference to a style or any colours, and seemed to just wear whatever he stole (though that wasn’t the word he’d used). Other than his boots Jasper appeared to have no bias at all in what he wore, resulting in an endless loose annoyance as Eda played dress up in her mind with the few options displayed.

In the end she got him a navy button up, predicting the deep shade might off set his almost orange eyes though she certainly was no expert in colour theory. She also picked up a pair of black straight-legged trousers as well as a plain white T-shirt, not wanting to limit Jasper by her own disinterest in wearing more than two layers of clothing. Eda noted how odd it felt without his presence beside her, listening to her chat of birds and reciprocating the teasing sent his way as good as he got. Maybe she was already too accustomed to having someone to talk with after being alone for such a long time if the strange faint emptiness burrowing in her chest was any clue.

Eda had not known peace since sharing the human poking game, and had often cursed her decision on their journey there when Jasper filled any minute quiet with ` _poke`_ and a gentle tap at her shoulder. Obviously she had only actively encouraged him by running off after prodding him back, laughing when a high speed chase ensued.

For a moment Eda stood frowning at the clothing selection, contemplating adding suspenders but deciding not to when she remembered his leather belt and knowing enough about humans to understand wearing them both was a big no no.

When she left the store it was with a bright smile and a paper bag, tracing her steps back to Jasper and relieved that the brief clouds had lingered enough to make a safe exit. Though it was midday there were very few humans on the pavement, making her think it might not have been the weekend like she’d thought. The few mortals she did see tossed her friendly looks as she went, their dazzled faces gave her an unavoidable confidence boost even after centuries of the same treatment. It was a wonder she hadn't turned vain or shallow, saved partially by the reception of her own kind.

Eda tried not to panic at the distant scent of human blood, unable to rationalise it to the deer’s they’d hunted two days ago. The blood drove her faster through the spotted mortals, fearing the worst in her friends self-control. In the back of her mind Eda knew she shouldn’t be stressing. Jasper was a grown man and old enough to know how to be subtle about his kills, then remained herself that the source of the smell was still ambiguous. It could have just easily been a paper cut or a road accident- however that last scenario was untrue since there was no sounds of fright nearby.

Eda’s optimistic thoughts became infinity more impossible at the shambles she discovered Jasper in.

The blood didn’t blend with the yellows and oranges, too speckled and streaked to betray anything other than atrocity with the striped pattern it had sent across the shrubs. Even the rough tree trunks were polka-dotted. They framed the scene like a tortured teen’s sketchbook, with Jasper at the centre kneeling beside a woman sprawled out of shape. The dirt under her fingernails were clear signs of a struggle: it had not been a gentle death. Scuffs of soil had been wiped along his shoulder. She’d been smacking fruitlessly against her demise, not that it had done anything to prevent the outcome. The picture was a world of annihilation and butchery, Jasper wasn’t misplaced against it, his bloodied hands censoring his face. Eda didn’t need to be an empath to recognise the emotions coming off him.

They were on the edge of the forest, not at all too far or dark for any well meaning human to stumble upon, a barred fence and less than a foot of dirt being the only things separating the corpse from the pavement. The fence was a centimetre thick at most, made of linked green metal rods evenly spaced apart. It offered absolutely zero coverage.

Too visible. Too dangerous. Eda needed to move them both immediately before a car or mortal passed. Their only saving grace was that the buildings standing watch on the opposite side of the street had their backs turned, but that could switch to hazardous if any of the staff inside decided to take their lunch breaks early through the small doors glaring at them.

Chuking the almost forgotten bag into the under brush, Eda blurred to a stop to stand on the other side of the body, confused when Jasper didn’t respond to her approach.

“Jasper?” His hands slid wetly into his hair, uncovering a wide eyed yet blank expression that slowly turned up at her. His eyes were already starting to change back to red, undoing the small progress made by the deer. “Jasper what are you doing? We need to go,” she whispered to him in hopes of keeping the street uninhabited.

“I couldn’t help it,” he breathed finally, beginning to curl in on himself. Jasper had soaked up all of the human's fright; her terror when he attacked her, dragged her only just into the trees. “She tripped right in front of me and… and…” -and he hadn’t been able to stop. He could hardly keep himself from lapping at the splatters. Eda looked down at the woman’s knees, making out a scratch where it had landed on a sharp stone. It had its own drip of blood trailing from it and confirmed the story, not that she hadn’t believed. “I’m so sorry.”

“We have to go,” she told him again, reaching towards his shoulder so she could try and tug him along.

But Jasper flinched out the way and Eda sucked the hand in, taking a half step back in shock with a gasp. Never had he flinched from her. It was their unspoken deal not to recoil like everyone else did from each other, to be different and to be the same, to accept and to tolerate the sight of one another. At his own movement Jasper looked horrified, and she fell to her knees as the lapse in control unleashed a tsunami of regret, self loathing and shame onto Eda. The sole reason she didn't collapse completely were her hands bracing against the ground in front of her.

Her reaction made Jasper’s guilt double, knowing their pact was strained and that it was his fault. _It was his fault._ He was too unreliable, too undisciplined in ways the army hadn’t taught him to safely travel with Eda. He’d get them both killed; didn’t deserve to stain her sunny orbit like he had. “Please,” Jasper mumbled, hanging his head, “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” She spat back at him, clutching her stomach as the strength of his projecting began to cause her physical pain as it intensified. “Can’t we do this somewhere else?” Eda was still attempting to whisper though it was beginning to leak into hissing, not out of anger but in agony. Everything was screaming for her to run, to get away from this ache. But she just couldn’t.

Jasper saw how she squeezed herself as if her arms would keep her from being tore apart. “I’m hurtin’ you.” The realisation only made her wince harder, Jasper was too far gone in trying to push her away to lock off the powerful broadcasting. “Perhaps you should go to the Cullen's without me.”

“No,” Eda almost interrupted him, leaning closer but careful not to catch him unaware again. “I’m not leaving without you.” It was the truth, even if that meant she had to sit there for the rest of their lives until the Volturi came for them, she was determined not to abandon her friend alone in this ditch.

“I can’t help it Eda… Even when I’ve just fed I don’t have the restraint in me. I wasn’t taught how to do that.” He shook his head slowly, wanting to give up the idea that had been gift wrapped to him when Eda had sat opposite him in that diner. A mockery of the present. "Wasn't raised that way."

“Neither was I,” she reminded him softly through clenched teeth, still struggling with the surging emotions he was radiating but refusing to cave. “I didn’t learn there was another way until I was almost 400 years old Jasper. You’re still new to this, stop being so hard on yourself.”

Although he badly wanted to meet her eyes, Jasper found himself staring down at the limp body between them. Becoming angry at the carcass just for still being there, Eda growled and snatched it by the back of the neck, flinging it deep into the forest behind him.

The body arched its spine unnaturally around an old tree, crumpling at the base. Unseeing pupils, seemingly hypnotized by the cherry red leaves drifting their way shook from their home by the force of the throw, were turned as the head lolled to the side to gape after its killer as if the host was watching a dramatic sequence unfold on their favourite soap opera.

“That’s good. Be angry with me.” He nodded slightly at his own comment, putting one last plan into action. She groaned in frustration when the pulsing churned, shifting and wrapping around her.

Looking away from the hair-raising cadaver, Eda set her attention on Jasper. “Please Jasper, we need to go.”

Breathing in to calm herself, she was about to speak again when the boiling, over-flowing rage pierced through her. It took everything not to let the static igniting at her finger tips fly as they wanted. Quickly moving her hands so they dug into her armpits, she squeezed them into fists to try to stop the sensation. Eda knew he was doing this; could feel him trying to hollow her out and fill those extensive spaces with wrath, taking everything and overloading it to create the reality Jasper so evidently desired from her.

She clung to that knowledge, that it wasn’t really her feeling that way though it didn’t make it any easier. “Stop that. I’m not angry at you. I’m not angry.” The sparks crackled like live wires behind her, seeping beneath her arms.

Jasper was completely in his element and Eda could hardly do anything but absorb it all. The quiet voices were over as Eda roared at the spot the body had been.

“You egg sucking, lilly livered, jive-talking, whackadoo! You foul villain!” Twisting in on herself, she kept running her mouth in a quick-witted effort to draw his focus away from his self pity. “In antiquis temporibus filios tibi similes erant relictus pereat in rupes you motherfucking dirt eating bacteria!” Eda expecting him to snap or snarl at her- yet just like always he never did. “Little stupid bitch ass dismantled half baked shit rolling stinking devil.” At last she felt the slow release of his influence as it crept away, and though breathless Eda was able to rear her head to lock onto his eyes. Without meaning to (but also glad to) Eda’s insults melted as they watched each other. “I bite my thumb at thee you ugly mother fucker, you yeasty hedge born pig.”

They frowned at each other, still tense and their friendship pinched. Able to move without starting a forest fire, Eda straightened and relaxed her arms, feeling very out of breath and mentally exhausted at the emotional roller-coaster Jasper had just ejected her from. The soil sang to her, calling for Eda to lay down to rest. Still knowing they needed to get away she resisted.

Jasper apparently wasn’t through with her though, now sending out a much stronger version of the natural calm to ease any remaining anxiety. At once Eda's shoulders sagged, torment drained. “Forgive me ma’am, but it feels like I’m bein’ threatened by a cupcake.”

She shut her eyes to the sky, chest heaving with each heavy pant. Eda didn’t know why she was having so much trouble breathing, it wasn’t like her lungs actually needed the air they demanded. “Did I ask?” He stayed there gazing at her, then huffed a laugh, finally giving a tiny smile. “You’re not a creature of violence anymore cowboy. You left that behind,” she told him, barely audible, looking back to him. Jasper heard nevertheless. “Come with me… Please,” Eda begged quietly through a sigh, and peering up at him, still shorter even while kneeling.

Blood dripping from his jaw, Jasper shook his head at her, mystified. “Y’know my reputation and you still stay here?”

Eda scoffed, and now it was her turn to smirk. “As if I’d ever be afraid of lil’ old you.” She didn’t have to be afraid of him to see he was pretty alarming with his fresh red eyes.

“I don’t trust me. Why should you?”

“Who’s gonna stop me? You?- Doubt it.”

Jasper understood she wasn’t giving up: she was more stubborn than any mule. “I’mma hand full,” he warned, as if Eda didn’t already know.

“I have two hands,” she said, stretching out her pinky finger to him and waiting with eyebrows raised.

Jasper looked from the finger to her face then back to her finger in a way that echoed spectators at a tennis match. Eventually giving a full smile, he linked their pinkies and gripped tightly. “Alright,” he said raising his free palm in surrender. “I give in.”

“You give in?” Eda tried to hide the excitement in her voice but the full teeth grin building gave her away.

“Yeah.” Not letting go, Jasper stood, bringing her up with him. “You win."

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again!” She ordered, pointing up at him with a small scowl.

Jasper squeezed her finger, his smile unbothered by the fangs. “You’re stuck with me now Eda. I’m gonna hound you like a mutt.”

"You flatter yourself too much." The relief she felt when he laughed at her wasn’t totally unexpected, and Eda allowed Jasper to tug her slightly into the trees to find some place to clean up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In antiquis temporibus filios tibi similes erant relictus pereat in rupes = In ancient times children like you were left to perish on the rocks


	18. An Offer I Could Definitely Refuse

It had been almost a week since Jasper's slip up, and the man’s mood had only gotten better as the days had passed. Eventually, with practiced ruthlessness towards human life and Eda’s unshifting confidence, he was able to put aside the fear and dread he had absorbed. It lingered… but he could see around it.

He was wearing the same clothes she’d brought him that day, and though he indeed cared little what he wore (aside from his boots because they were always a necessity), he could see the appeal of the blues.

They were still on their _detour_ as Eda had called it, travelling off course to their destination, deep in Indiana and heading for Lake Michigan. It wasn’t the ocean like Jasper had suggested, but they’d found a pink note pinned to a rotting log when they had turned in the opposite direction of Washington.

_You don’t have time! The Pacific Ocean is less than a half hour away from Forks- you can wait._

_~ A_

Obviously they had discussed going anyway out of spite for having been told what to do yet again, and they almost did. But then Eda had flipped the note over and discovered there was more writing on the back:

_If you go into the Atlantic Ocean together you will never come to Forks. One choice or the other. This isn’t going to be the last thing I ask you both to do for me in our friendship but it will be the most demanding. Please come home._

The writing was erratic and nothing at all like the perfectly curled letters on the front, panic clear in the way Alice’s hand had been shaking when she wrote it. They had looked at each other, not understanding and concerned, agreeing that perhaps it would be best if they listened to the girl and avoid whatever fate lay waiting in the oceans. Heeding the warning, the pair had span back around.

Eda had proposed an alternative: Lake Michigan, saying that it was so big it looked almost identical to an ocean. He had agreed, smiling when her orbit lightened significantly. She wasn’t happy that they’d had to compromise but remembered stumbling upon the lake centuries before, and was sure he’d like it.

Trusting Alice had become an easier choice for Eda in the past week, and in a strange way she found herself eager to see the girl again. She wanted to be friends with her, curious to experience what she had envisioned. Everything Alice told her hinted that the future was good, so one day Eda decided to throw caution to the wind and enjoy the journey they were being guided on. What did she have to lose?

///

The trees were alight, or least appeared to be, with tiny matches at their tips. They swayed, jerking in the breeze as their leaves took the last steps of their lives to a bitter but inevitable end in brilliant yellow, bright orange and subtle red tainted by the brown crispness of mid September. It made the air cool, thinning out the vegetation in powerful gusts that drove the humans inside. It made it easier for Eda to stroll through the pale grass catching leaves as they flew, and left the branches exposed to the cold harshness winter promised.

Jasper was trailing behind, allowing his steps to make loud crunches as he watched Eda through the grass. It was cloudy enough that they could pass as humans under the thin coverage, the sky a misty grey so thick the sun was hidden beneath it. According to Eda they were very close to the Ogden Dunes, and although he no idea where he was anymore, Jasper let her lead him; confident in her confidence to aim them in the right direction.

“So how come you’ve never seen the ocean?” Eda asked him, brushing her fingers along the shrubs. “You’re not living if you’re not exploring.” To her it was true, and she decided to show him the rain forests after seeing the Cullen’s, and after the ocean.

She didn’t worry so much about Jasper anymore, about if he did indeed want to hang around while they travelled to Carlisle. He had made good on his oath, never left her side since except to walk behind like he was doing now. Sometimes the anxiety began to mount though, doubting and sinking, asking if she was doing the right thing- but then he would lock her with that smile she secretly found sweet and everything melted away.

However what would happen afterwards; when they had been to Folks and the Pacific ocean, when there would be no reason for him to stay… those ideas could stress her out, and so she kept those thoughts at bay.

Over the week Jasper had become more and more relaxed, and though he still acted as a look out, he was becoming aware of Eda’s subtler ways of doing the same. He had today taken to walking with his hands behind his back, using her wonder to attempt to see the world through her eyes. “Never had an excuse ma’am.” It was harder than expected to stop the whirling in his head.

She tutted, remarking softly, “such a country bumpkin.”

“You’re lucky I ain’t a hick,” Jasper called back to her.

“A hick?”

“A redneck.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s a relief.” She jumped to catch a leaf as it glided passed, looking over the veins before blowing it off her open palm. “I don’t think I could cope with you yeehaw-ing and hawdy-ing all over the place. You’re bad enough as it is.”

Jasper still liked her teasing, knowing the south was one of the few places she hadn’t been and that it seemed a funny place to her. “I’m outnumbered on yeehaws and howdys eight to none-.”

She booed him, “sore looser.”

“-Which means, if anyone’s a hick it’s you.”

He heard a dramatic gasp. “I’m a proud city slicker thank you very much.”

“I think you just want to be a southerner like me, you clearly fantasise about it often.” She picked up a twig, probably thinking about testing his reflexes as she wind-milled it in her hand. “Though I don’t know how you’d fair on a horse. I’d bet you’d fall off at _least_ three times- maybe four.”

Dropping the stick in favour of pointing over her shoulder at him, Eda sang back, “I’ll have you know I would look absolutely dashing on a horse.” He didn’t doubt it, thought she’d be positively stunning on horse back. Jasper made himself cut the thought short. “Oh!” A real gasp sucked in his attention. “I’d have to get cowboy boots!” Jasper shook his head, but smiled along with her genuine excitement.

“Why of course, I couldn’t have you embarrassing me by turning up barefoot.” He didn’t comment on how his shoes had found themselves in Eda’s trunk during the night and had yet to return. “What would my momma say if brought a Brit to Texas...” Without meaning to his voice trailed off.

Since Eda was gazing at the trees it took a few seconds to notice the lack of drumming behind her. But then Jasper’s natural influence began to dim the further she got, and Eda took it as his mood souring, though when she turned he was still on the path.

Jasper was staring ahead, beyond her, over the slight bump that obscured Eda’s view just a feet feet in front of them.

“We can go closer?” She began walking backwards, still watching Jasper stretch to see more from his spot “… I did intend to go closer?” When he didn’t react Eda laughed and lifted the camera, clicking a picture of him.

His eyes snapped down to her. “I’m comin’,” Jasper said, speeding to her. “Wait ‘til you see it Eda… It’s amazing,” he whispered, leaning towards her slightly.

Smiling up at Jasper and choosing not to remind him that she was the one who lead them here, Eda turned to walk forwards beside him, and sighed happily. At last she could see a thin strip of blue over the hill, and cheered that they’d finally made it. Jasper chuckled as her joy became his, and together they jogged towards the water. She notes the subtle change from soil to sand beneath her feet.

The pair skid to a stop right on the edge, where the beach begins and the grass stops, to admire what they’ve found.

Jasper's paler than the dusty sand, colder too but only just. The ground is the most gentle hue of gold, earthen and muted. Eda knew that with each step the sand would shift underfoot, creating avalanches centimetres long. There is only blue on the horizon, rippling and rolling against itself. Waves lay low and curl down, crashing onto the shore with hisses; peeling away at the sand and creating a smooth slope. A sharp darkening gradient marks where the tides would land, though a human might have trouble seeing this detail. The water is frigid, and the wind blew in bitter gusts, tumbling Eda’s hair behind her. The fresh water of the lake didn’t have the same salty scent of the oceans, instead the sand was dominant second only to the grasses they’d walked through. Apart from the hand full of ducks surfing away from shore the vampires were the only signs of life as far as they could see.

Geographically this was the beach Eda had visited over three centuries ago, but it didn’t look the same as it once did. Winter storms and waves had continued with their eternal reshuffling of the landscape. Large sections of hills had eroded into one, grains collecting in shells, behind clumps of dune grass or debris, any place that allowed relief from the vigorous wind. She remembers the lake being a more vibrant shade of blue than the one in front of her, more life in and on the water, clearer. Momentary she’s angry, blaming the humans for what they’ve done to the world, but the feeling passes as fast as it arrives; choosing to value the present. Jasper shoots a glance to her, but in the beat of waves it takes for his eyes to move the emotion is gone, so he goes back to inspecting the view.

The contrast in their attitudes, the differences time made between them was intriguing to Eda.

Jasper wanted to observe from a distance before going forwards, to assess how dangerous and to count the possible risks. He wanted to list the hazards and check them, map out their escape routes, to make a Plan A, Plan B as well as a Plan C. Whether he did this knowingly or unconsciously Eda didn’t know, and thought it could be both.

Of course she also made these plans, took note of any strangers (which there were none), and scanned all around for threats. But these thoughts passed in seconds rather than minutes. Eda wanted most to become a part of the space, to kick at the water and skip rocks, to stand against the current in rebellion towards Poseidon just to prove she could. She wanted to sink into the soft sand and bask like a lizard; that thought made her giggle, imagining how awful she would taste.

Eda also wants to build sand castles, with Jasper if he wants to. “How good at construction are you Jas? Wanna try your hand at sand castles?”

“Sand castles?” He didn’t have any idea of how you made stuff out of sand and frowned at the partials below, taking a scoop with his palm to examine the way it sprayed on the wind through his fingers. Nothing could be built from this.

She saw the expression and realised that he may not know how to do what she was asking. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re about to tell me something I really don’t want to hear?”

“Experience?” Standing up, Jasper rubbed his hands together to shake off the remaining grains. “The sands too thin to mould ma'am.”

She concluded that he didn’t, understanding that sand castles likely held little interest so recently out of war. “We’ll just build close to the water, where it's wetter.”

Thinking, Jasper looked away out of habit as she undressed and revealed a shorter red rayon swimsuit-dress underneath.

In preparation for their visit to the beach Eda had took them shopping. He hadn’t found the experience particularly enlightening, but she had been anxious the whole time. She was uncomfortable with how high most things had sat, not self conscious but the ideas of her time about modesty still hung in her head. She couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow that this was how she was expected to dress. That thought had only stood for a moment: Eda knew times were different and it was no longer a scandalous event when a woman showed an ankle. To spite herself for still thinking like that, she had bought the most shocking red one-piece she could find. It helped of course to think of it as little more than a exceedingly short dress. Jasper had quite liked this part of modern life, though he didn't dare breath a word of this to Eda. She had attempted to get him a black and white stripy romper, but he had swiftly shook his head at that.

She took off running towards the lake, dropping her case at his feet and already creating blue prints.

Jasper could do little else but smile after her, putting his trousers and outer shirt in the case. When he straightened he saw she had already found the perfect place and was kneeling with her back to him, piling wet sand in front of her. It was thick enough to build with there, but far enough from the waves to avoid it being destroyed. He observes her for a breath, picking up the sound of Eda humming happily to herself. “You better hurry up if you’re coming,” she called to him, not looking away from the foundations.

///

Despite Jasper's hesitance, Eda had succeeded in building a grand sand castle. She had produced an impressive reconstruction of a medieval tower, complete with a moat and a draw bridge. Said moat was simply a deep line he had ringed around the castle and the draw bridge did not move, but they had more pressing matters to focus on than petty details like that.

“What’s the matter?” Jasper had asked, having noticed the nagging uncertainty coming from her and opening his eyes to look. He was laying on the ground with his arms crossed behind his head, soaking up the faint sun.

He’d abstained from participating in building the castle, though Eda had asked his opinions on what needed to be added (sometimes acting on them, sometimes not). That didn’t mean he was disinterested, quite the opposite. He listened closely and eyed the structure, occasionally giving her trinkets he found on the beach to incorporate.

“I don’t know…” Eda was standing with her hands on her hips, frowning down at it. “Something’s missing.” Sitting up to examine her monument, Jasper went over what he knew about castles.

He stood and slowly (to give her chance to object) pushed two fingers into the sand and dragged them along as he walked around the castle. “A moat?” Jasper said, stepping back beside her to study what he’d done.

She nodded, pinching her smile to hide how happy she was that he’d joined in at last. “Just what it needed.”

Picking up a clump of seaweed he had brought over earlier, Jasper deemed it worthy of becoming a part of the story. “King or a Queen?”

He handed it to her and she looked it over. “Maybe a rebellious prince?”

“What is he rebelling against?”

Humming to herself again, Eda squinted at the seaweed, thinking of a plot. “He wishes to be a painter, his father doesn’t approve.” Putting the matt in the throne room, she picked up a stick and scratched a squiggle into the sand. “So now he’s convincing the village to overthrow the king.”

“A reasonable reaction.” Leaning down to point at a little stone sat on the highest tower, Jasper asked, “what’s that then?”

She snatched up the less than thimble sized pebble, holding it up victoriously. “The dragon!”

“I thought dragons were meant to be...y’know....” He raised an eyebrow at her, gesturing at the dead fish which he thought would suit the role of a beast better. “Bigger?”

Eda smirked. “Trust me, it will be.” She flicked the pebble at him, and Jasper caught it before it hit, returning the grin. He tossed it back to her in the same fluid motion and she ducked out the way. “Uh no,” she looked where it had landed in exaggerated despair, “it appears I’ve forgotten to tame it.”

Their attention was drawn away by the sound of humans entering the beach: an elderly couple, held up by each others arms and walking canes. “You think they’ll notice?” Eda whispered, glancing between Jasper and the castle they’d made.

“I think they’d be stupid not to,” he said softly, holding his breath.

Eda pouted, sighing heavily, and kicked the castle over before the couple could see. “Now what?”

He turned to the water. The waves were merely snoozing, sluggish and slumbering in their liquid robes. Curious to know what marine creatures swim under the surface, Jasper walked into them, stopping when it hit his feet to look back to Eda. “Care for a race?”

“Later,” she mumbled, but still sauntered into the lake with him. “You go ahead.” Eda sat chest deep in the water, letting herself be rocked by the current and waving off Jasper as he continued onward.

Although she couldn’t feel the electrifying coldness, she could decipher the intended chill. It didn’t have the same heated quality of the river in Pennsylvania, and the waves bumped in surprise at the discovery of a new rock when they met her. Eda could track Jasper’s route by how the previously nervous ducks quaked and took flight as their safe place was invaded. She snorted when one was hooked by a hand and abruptly pulled down.

Taking a breath, she submersed herself, reclining on the soft sand, and far enough from the shore that the waves keep her hidden. It's a different yet familiar place under the murky water. She whistles bubbles to see the way they dither on their short travels to the air. The world looks lighter through the sparkly surface and cast gleaming reflections on her face. Her hair moved with the current, resembling an many-legged octopus as it slowly curls and stretches.

Hearing something coming towards her, she lifts her head to look down into the blue-gloom. She can't see as well here as she can on land but makes out that it's Jasper, and he raises his eyebrows in greeting. Smiling at the sight of him she sits up and pushes her hair back just as he resurfaced beside her, gasping for non-essential fresh air.

“I think I’ve just seen a shark.” He dragged himself to sit beside her, beaming at his adventure.

“Poor shark,” Eda muttered. "Some fish can walk out of water, so remember that next time."

Laughing at her cryptic statement, his arms fanned out as if to measure the size of the fish, though they weren’t even close to long enough it seemed. "It was huge! It had so many teeth- at least three rows.”

“Probably a bull shark.” Encouraging this giddiness, she told him more about sharks. He liked the sound of a great whites, no matter how harmless they were to them. The pair made a bet that if they ever came across one they would have to wrestle it. Jasper thought he would win, she disagreed and speculated he’d be swallowed first. 

“Where do you think Alice is right now?” Eda asked, when there was a lull in his anticipation.

“She could be anywhere,” he thought aloud, “maybe she’s already with the Cullen’s.”

“The Cullen’s?”

“You said Alice told you that you’d be best friends?” She nodded. “And that you’d join the Cullen’s?” Again she nodded. “Wouldn’t it make sense for her to also become a part of their coven?”

“It would...” Carlisle's family would swell with the addition of three to the existing five. It was unheard of for eight vampires to live together. The norm was to be alone or in pairs, and a trio was considered a formidable enemy. Any higher and conflict bred. Rivalry and jealously thrived when there was more than one bonded pair in the group. The only exception was the Volturi, and they were only tied by Chelsea. “She told me we’d be sisters.”

“Well that settles it. She’s most likely already there waiting for us.”

He sounded so sure to Eda. “You think so?”

“She would want to be with her sister.” Feeling at last at ease with this finalisation, Eda looked down to see how the waves uprooted the shells near her hand. “Do you trust Alice?” He asked quietly.

“I think I do. I want to.” And she really did, had been so uplifted by her. Alice had done nothing but guide them, and appeared so sincerely delighted to see her. What was the worst that could happen anyway? They were vampires.

Jasper was still watching her when the wind changed, blowing her hair roughly around her face, and he tensed when it flashed a scar on Eda he hadn’t seen before. Two barbed semi-circles of teeth, a bottom and top set, each on either side of the back of her neck.

But they were different from the rest of the scars on her body. The skin around them had blistered. This injury had been slow and prolonged. It must have been excruciating. Whoever had done it had latched on, used the hold as a place to grip with their teeth while they did their bidding. The whole area was a minefield of domination and humiliation. Jasper swallowed thickly, seething at the assessment.

Layered over them was four straight lines; finger nail scratches that had been covered in venom. It seemed Eda had done that part herself judging from the angle, and he thought about what story that particular mark held to drive her to do such a thing.

Thinking back to what she had told him about Arrius (and what he thought she hadn’t) he came up with an answer. The notion disturbed him, and Jasper suddenly felt the urge to guard her against the past.

Thrown by this realisation he turned his scowl to the water. He couldn’t allow her to live in danger, even though he had no idea why he felt that need. He was on the precipice of something, the big shifting feeling in his mind he’d been undergoing since meeting Eda was growing, getting brighter; bolder with each second he spent around her. It was roaring at this echo of her life, knowing someone had mutilated her. He just couldn't figure out what it meant.

Eda felt the absence of his natural calm, and saw he was snarling at the surface of the lake. “Jas?”

“That won’t happen again...” he thundered, the water around him convulsing at the vibrations sent from his growling. “No one will ever hurt you again.”

She tilted her head, confused and pondering what an odd thing to say out of the blue. Jasper glanced to the back of her neck and it made sense. Understanding, her smile returned. “I know,” Eda assured him when he resumed watching her. She relaxed at the slow renewal of his influence, leaning back to gaze at the darkening clouds. “Never again.”

Her body was covered in evidence why he didn’t need to worry about protecting her. Eda could clearly defend herself very effectively without his help. There was no logical explanation why he would ever be required to save her as if she was a damsel in distress. She knew it, he knew it- they both knew it: Eda did not need to be rescued. But now, while she raised her closed eyes to the sky and smiled carefree, sending him steady ripples of peace… She looked so delicate to Jasper, almost fragile as she allowed the waves to sway her. _What was going on with him lately?_

Eda, unaware of the internal storm brewing within him, was thinking back to when she had clawed at the brand. Sara couldn’t stand to witness the deed though hadn’t stopped her, knowing what the manifestation meant, instead had sat by ready for the aftermath. The memory of reaching back, her scream when she'd raked across the sensitive mark, seeing her own flesh under her nails, the knowledge she'd broken the badge of ownership.

A happy sigh slipped through her lips. She was free.

They settled into an easy quiet, letting the babbling waves become a comforting background noise. The pair stayed within arms reach of each other but kept to themselves in serene silence, existing independently in the space.

“So,” she began when night neared. “How’s the detour?”

“Not good,” Jasper told her glumly.

Puzzled, Eda looked over to him, groaning when she saw he was beaming at her. “Knew you’d hate it,” she said, grinning at his cackling. “Silly man,” she mumbled, shaking her head, wondering why she had ever been worried. 


	19. Raspberry Beret

They were chatting happily on their way through what they presumed to still be down town Chicago, though truthfully Eda was lost. It was their second night there, attracted like moths to the brilliant lights under the black sky. Club advertisements and headlights bathed the streets in shades of yellows, breathing life into the unsleeping city. The dark meant the pair were free to roam the streets at leisure. They weren’t alone: humans loved to party.

Hulking grey-brown concrete buildings towered on both sides of the street with telephone wires webbed between them, and though the birds stayed on the roof tops in the day, they were unoccupied at night. It smelt a little dusty, the traffic hustling on the well worn road beside them made the air thick with petrol. To avoid the humans they stayed away from the bars, and had found themselves on a quiet street with many pop-out cafes, where it seemed the lights were on but no one was home. However Jasper still had to hold his breath sometimes when the occasional human passed. The signs of autumn were absent in the city where all the vegetation had been eradicated, though early Halloween decorations had appeared looped in some of the windows.

Over the sound of honking cars, Jasper was attempting to explain to Eda how to ride a horse. She was trying get him to demonstrate as they walked, so far only succeeding in tricking him into waving his fists up and down like he’s holding the reins. She pretends to be confused and mimics him wrong, aiming to get him to pump his shoulders in time with his arms; having great difficulty keeping both her face and emotions clear because unbelievably he’s falling for it.

He’s just beginning to move his upper back in rhythm with his imaginary horse when he catches something in her orbit, then the jig is up and they’re howling because she’s been pranking him for the last five minutes. Jasper blames the rapturous atmosphere but she isn’t buying it.

A toddler waddles right up to them offering a white paper bag of sweets, gurgling, no doubt attracted by their outburst. The child is quickly snatched away by a woman who had laughed apologetically with Eda about how “ _adventurous they were at that age_ ”, as if she’d had any direct experience with a human child in almost 600 years. Jasper had stood stock still a step behind her, glaring wide eyed at the little family until they’d fled. The vampires carried on walking once they’d left, Eda amazed that an infant had unknowingly tempted fate. Jasper bobbed his head along, still holding his breath but wanting to ask why a child was out so late.

Eda was going to start a new game when she noticed movement behind them in the reflection of a passing car, eyes snapping involuntarily to check the disturbance in the sleek paint.

There were three red eyed men walking behind them a good ways back. It just so happened the wind had been blowing the wrong way (no doubt the reason they had gotten so close), so it was impossible to know how long they’d been stalking the pair. It reminded her too much of that day with Sara, and without warning the streets she’d thought were relatively safe transformed into target practice.

How ironic would it be if history repeated itself? Surely the universe couldn’t be so cruel… would it?

Instinct made her quicken her pace, because right now she wasn’t an almost 600 year old immortal: she was just a woman being followed by three men who were up to no good trying to keep herself from running.

Immediately Jasper picked up on her panic and leaned in, speeding next to her, “Eda?”

“Behind,” she whispered without turning her head, asking herself what they could want. The trio closed in as if sensing they were spotted.

Jasper saw them in a shop window and began marching, catching her upper arm and leading them swiftly to the underground railway station. Eda had told him about them on their way around the city, telling him about the many unfinished tunnels. She understood and moved in sync with him, taking the stairs two at a time to keep up.

They tried their best not to collide with the humans clogging the stairs down, but from the curses and protests coming from behind them the men weren’t taking the same precautions so they began to run. Eda hoped Italy wouldn’t get wind of this.

The pair darted through the thinly populated halls as quickly as they could with the humans watching (earning a few insults) until Jasper came to a thick metal gate that was chained shut to the public.

Ripping the locks open and accidentally leaving the bars bent out of shape, he pulled her into an unfinished station and they blurred into it as deep as it went- which was surprisingly far. It probably went on for miles.

At the end of the cave they turned and prepared for battle, the purple darkness let them map out their strong holds and vantage points. Large steel beams formed the skeleton of what was to be, but the dry compressed soil floor was only partially covered in wooden planks. The tall space could have been a mine-shaft if they didn’t know where they were. It was empty of workers, so they were plunged into silence while they waited.

Eda hurled her case and hat to the side, repeatedly clenching and relaxing her hands to release the nervous energy building. She knew it was ridiculous, what with her history, but it had been almost a century since the last time she’d fought another of their kind. She hoped vampires didn’t get rusty.

Jasper on the other hand was motionless, ears pricking at every creak, staring into the tunnel they’d just entered through. If they wanted a fight he’d give it to them.

They didn’t have to wait more than a few seconds, the men had been hot on their heels.

Jasper could feel the satisfaction from the strangers at having them cornered. Everyone radiated excitement, eager for someone to make the first move. It had him snarling in anticipation. Eda was finalising her plan of attack, her eyes flashing between them searching for a weakness to exploit.

But then Jasper felt nothing but his own emotions, an alien sensation, like he was the only one in the whole station. At first it rattled him, then stirred up a new anger, pushing him to take a step forwards at them as the impatience mounted. Never had he felt so empty headed with four other people in the same room.

Eda was experiencing a similar discovery, unable to produce the familiar static at her finger tips. “Why are you following us?” She demanded as one of the men, the smallest of the three smirked; the same one Jane wore.

The men were an odd gang: covered in sot and wearing a uniform of ill fitting suits. They were freshly turned from the way their eyes burned in the dark.

“I told you it works,” the smallest, a weaselly man, said gleefully.

The tallest, who Eda identified as their leader, was looking smug between the other two. The third man was a wide figure, standing off to the side with his legs planted into the earth and hogging the space.

“What do you want?” Jasper snapped this time, his hands stretched out into talons.

The leader took a step towards them. “My brothers and I have travelled from far away.” He had a thick French accent and flashed his teeth as he spoke. “We have heard some impressive stories.” He took another step. “We had to see the God of War-”

Jasper sprang forwards at the name and the men shrunk back.

He landed on their leaders shoulders, hands snaring the man’s head and coiling around it so quickly they resembling a tripped bear trap.

The other two men watched in a mix of awe and horror as their leader staggered back. His hands stuttered frantically at his attackers legs, too bewildered to act as Jasper took chunks out of his head as if it was an apple.

Paralysed, Eda gaped after him, rediscovering the knowledge that the man she was travelling with had single-handedly brought whole armies to their knees. This was different from what he’d done to the deer and the unfortunate human. He was dangerous.

The stranger collapsed.

Dropping what was left of their leader’s head in the dirt, Jasper pounced after the wide man next.

Barely a second had passed. From his quick work Eda decided she didn’t have long if she wanted to join in- which she certainly did.

She sprinted at the remaining stranger, tackling him to the ground.

“Stop!” He pleaded up at her, writhing when she gripped his head. The smirk was gone now that she was starting to pull. “Maria didn’t send us! Please!” This man was not French, she noted, he was American. “I’ll give you your powers back if you let me live!” She wondered if they really were brothers.

“You can keep it.” He cried out as his neck began to disconnect, hands grabbing at her. One got too close to her mouth, and she sunk her teeth into it instinctively. Pinning his arm to the ground with her leg, Eda jerked back and shredded the mass, leaving his hand in ribbons. “I don’t care who sent you.” 

She hadn't needed to stress about fighting. Turns out vampires did have muscle memory, and it had been troublingly easy to get back into old habits. It'd been automatic to empty her head to everything that wasn't this man's demise. Those primal instincts to destroy hadn't been lurking as far under the surface as she thought.

Tossing the head to the side and pushing those thoughts away, Eda looked to her friend.

He had his foot on the wide man’s throat, snarling and spitting inches away from the strangers face. The man looked close to tears as Jasper leered down over him, missing half an arm but still intimidating.

She starts to walk towards him. She froze however when his thousand mile stare shot up and locked onto her, and all of a sudden Eda wasn't sure they were still on the same team.

For a second she sees the devil in those unhinged eyes before she remembers: this is Jasper. Jasper who listened to her rambling, who happily went along her pranks, who had followed her through the forest for almost two weeks on the thread that she’d been sent by a fortune teller he’d yet to meet.

Nevertheless… it takes everything not to run. She knew if she did anything that wasn’t a direct sign of standing her ground Jasper would instinctively chase her and her fate would be sealed.

He’s ready to kill again, crouching lower and growling, even with only one functional arm and a fresh bite on his neck.

Bloodthirsty.

Seeing that she isn’t going to approach or retreat, he rips the man’s head clean off and turns to her again. He tilts his head, calculating if she’s friend or foe; his mind so riled up that he’s not sure what to make of this woman who to him seemed unfamiliar.

The two men lay headless like disregarded medals around him. Both of them were stronger than he, more prepared than he. They’d probably been plotting for days. Meaningless. They were still dead. They’re dead and he’s standing and now Eda thinks she might be next.

Even now, she doesn’t want to fight Jasper. She’s not sure who’d win. She isn’t sure if she even wanted to win. “Easy Jasper… how’s about we find your arm?” She could live the rest of today not knowing that outcome.

He paused at the name, can almost hear an audible click inside his head as he recognised the woman standing in front of him. It’s Eda.

He doesn’t want to kill Eda. Even in his frazzled state of mind- especially in his frazzled state of mind- he couldn’t hurt her. She nourished him better than any blood he’d ever tasted, refreshed him when other people drained him. He only ever wanted to bring Eda joy.

Still coming back to himself, he at last identifies the feeling that’s been building since meeting her. It was the exact one Peter and Charlotte held for each other. Absolute devotion, trust and security all mixed together to create love.

Love for Eda. He’s in love with Eda. _He’s in love with Eda!_

It all made sense: why he wasn’t annoyed at her near constant wonder of the world, why he allowed her to tease him, why he’d been following her across America for almost two weeks.

Slowly he stands to his full height, noticing he’d lost an arm. He can taste her fear, and this time it’s undoubtedly because of him.

Scanning the two bodies he’d maimed, Jasper knew she’d witnessed the monster he sees himself as. He thinks it’d be just his luck to truly understand what he feels about Eda only for her to immediately turn tail and run away in terror.

But she’s still here, he realises. She’s still standing there looking at him with those eyes he’s found hypothesising ever since he first saw them in that diner. And even though she’s a little afraid, she’s still waiting for him. It’s more than Jasper ever thought he wanted, than he thought he deserved. What had he done to earn the gift of Eda?

She crept towards him louder than necessary, this time holding out his arm.

Even if she didn’t feel the same as him (because Jasper was sure no one could love anyone as much as he loved Eda at that moment), he was happy just to be near her.

He took the offered limb gingerly and put himself back together.

“Are you alright Jas?” She asked, swallowing through the self loathing he’s accidentally projecting, the thoughts it stirred up. He seemed to be himself now, and didn't flinch when she put a hand on his intact shoulder. Eda thought he was acting a little odd, gazing at her in what she couldn’t believe was wonder, and focused on helping him through whatever trance he was coming out of.

“I’m back now.” Still reeling from his breakthrough, Jasper reluctantly tore his eyes from her and allowed his mind to run on logic to clean the evidence they had left. “Let’s get them burned so we can leave.”

He just needed to get out of this claustrophobic hole and he needed Eda to come with him. He doesn’t know what he’d do if she didn’t come with him.

The pair stack the bodies in silence, using the planks as kindling. They make sure the fire doesn’t spread; Eda spending this time to find her things, dusting off the dirt what had gathered when they’d been flung.

As they watch the flames she told him what the little man had attempted to bribe her with (because he hadn’t been hearing anything coherent at the time), and it registered that he isn’t alone in his emotions anymore.

Eda breaths easier when he stops projecting, discovering the self loathing wasn't wholly because of his influence as she remembered how easy it'd been.

He buried his feelings away as to not erupt with this most recent discovery. Testing her own gift, sparks pop around her hands and she nodded at the knowledge that she’s in working order.

They leave the way they came: in a hurry to escape and restless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	20. Don't Cry, Can't Cry

Things were tense between them. Eda didn’t try and start a conversation with him as they exited the station, waiting for him to fully come back to himself. For the first time since they met, the pair walked in awkward silence.

Eda was leading them slowly through a park, and starting to think she should really be on the look out for a map. The humans had gone home, leaving the whole space to them. There is little else to do but remember what had just happened.

She was unsettled at how effortless it had been to slip back into the merciless creature she used to be, uncaring if the stranger lived or died, or even if he stole her power. The carnage she had created, demented and single minded. Expecting to find a tangled mane to reflect the inward change, Eda seized a fist full of her hair, only to discover it wasn’t any different to how it had been that morning. Rationally she knew she wasn’t at war anymore; that she was no longer that abominable thing, that she had learnt to be patient instead of heinous. It was just a jarring experience to recognise that she hadn’t put the past behind her long ago, that it seemed it had just been masked and left to fester like a corpse.

All this unease only fuelled the brooding Jasper was thinking through as he shadowed behind her, eyes to the ground.

He’d been misinterpreting the unrest of Eda’s emotions, forecasting a bitter end was about to come. He thinks she must be disgusted with him, to not even speak to him since leaving the underground. Jasper thinks he deserves this treatment. Too many times had she seen that side of him, and now she was at her breaking point because of him. “I suppose you don’t want to be around me no more, now I’ve growled at you.”

She resisted rolling her eyes, too occupied trying to search for road signs or landmarks and trying not to spiral into one of her depressions. The signs Eda had been finding mean little to her, intensifying the tightening sensation in her chest. It’s been too long since she’s ventured so far out of the forests, and the separation is crippling. Many of the streets they’ve been exploring simply didn’t exist the last time she was here, misshaping the city into a maze. “You forget I’ve seen much worse.”

 _But from me_ , he thought, as the anxiety mingled with his own. “And yet you were scared of me,” he whispered to the ground, waiting to be proved right.

Not believing what she was hearing, she stopped and turned to him, appalled. “Scared of you?” She asks, and this time she does roll her eyes when Jasper nods solemnly. "Do you hear yourself?”

“You _were_ scared,” he tells her, stepping closer and taking the worsening upset as a sign he had assumed correctly.

The way Jasper’s unintentionally towering over her should make her angry, but she’s sickened by the finality of the statement, and asks him seriously, “do you even know me?”

It makes him frown down at her, not having expected the sorrow growing within her. “I’d like to think so?”

“Then you should know exactly how unafraid of you I am.” Sighing, she grits her teeth and tried to lead his questions away from the reality. “I was scared because I was being chased by three men through the city.” It was a part truth. She really had been alarmed at the sight of them, but she knew Jasper wouldn’t accept the reason even as she gave it.

“No.” Eda groaned at him, but he carried on talking anyway. “After they were dead you looked at me and you were scared.”

“I’m telling you, I’m not scared of you.” This wasn’t the conversation she wanted to be having with Jasper. His questions were too direct. It made her feel interrogated. “All you know is that I was afraid and you’re blaming yourself- again. This isn’t about you.” She began to walk away, cursing how stubborn he was being.

Just like always he chased after her. "Alright then, why were you scared if it wasn’t ‘cause of me?” She didn’t answer, just continued walking with her sight set on the air in front of her, and Jasper held back a growl. “Tell me Eda, tell me why. Tell me!” Jasper stopped right in front of her, blocking her path and forcing her to face him. “You were terrified because you saw I might not be so nice, weren’t you?"

“How _dare_ you think so little of me!” She shouted back at him, unable to stop the shake in her voice. “I’m not fucking scared of you.” She let her case fall onto the grass, knowing he wasn’t going to let the subject go. They were going to hash this out until one of them yielded. If she’s honest with herself Eda thinks it might be her who caves this time, swallowing thickly because this wasn’t how she was expecting the night to go.

He sensed the building turbulence coming from her and lowered his voice, not wanting to argue with the woman he loved. “Yes, you are.” This wasn’t how Jasper had intended to behave, he didn’t want to drive her away. “Why are you scared?” He begged, desperate to know how to fix whatever kind of bond remained.

Eda felt herself becoming consumed, involuntarily pushing her hands into the sides of her head and hating herself for even getting in this situation. The speed of which her mind was racing was making her dizzy. Despite being in the middle of a relatively serine park without fences, where the only barriers were scattered shrubs, she felt caged. She was stranded in a city she didn’t know her way around with a man who wasn’t hearing her. There weren’t enough mature trees to seek out vantage points. She didn’t know how to get back to her forests. Her vision had become somehow blurred and she couldn't figure out how to escape. “You know why.”

Jasper almost didn’t hear her mumbling, wincing as her nails scratched at her skin. “Clearly I don’t.”

“Then you haven’t been listening,” she hissed at him, powerless to move her frozen stare from the ground.

He carefully pulled her fingers away from her face, holding her hands steady to keep her from hurting herself. “Just talk to me darlin’.”

“I'm terrified of still being the person I used to be, okay!” She tugged one hand out of his slack grasp and gestured to the back of her neck. “Because of this.” Even though it had been cut through, the brand always haunted her thoughts, reminding her of the times she had been weak.

“You don’t have to be that anymore,” he whispered, beyond caring how his affections were leaking into his voice.

“I already am.” Eda heard the new tone, and the buzzing in her head stopped so fast it gave her whiplash. She wanted to put her trust in Jasper. It would be so easy. Every atom of her shirked, needing to trust him. “… I’m not a good person... I’m not always so happy.” She chuckled humourlessly as she said it, breath catching. “I’ve worked so hard to try to be as happy as I am now- to be as at peace… and I’m still doing the exact same thing.”

Jasper was secretly disturbed at how much she sounded like she had given up, the uncharacteristic gloom clouding her didn't look right on her face. “You didn’t have a choice.” He managed to keep his voice stable, understanding what would unfold if Eda heard anything that could be misconstrued as a hesitation.

“But I still did it.” All the lives she had snatched up simply because she had been too naive to say no. She was as evil as Arrius. She was worse. “I’m a monster.”

“No you’re not.” Jasper grabbed her hand on its flight to claw at the back of her neck, securing both her wrists in front of her. Eda didn’t try to pull away from him, grateful he was locking her hands with a tighter grip. He leaned closer slightly, trying to will her to listen. “No one will do that to you again.”

Unable to cope with this sudden tenderness, she hunched close to the ground, curling in on herself, attempting to disappear by staring wide eyed at the grass. It wasn’t working. Jasper didn’t let go, crouching down with her.

“You don’t know that.” The thought of history looping itself made her brain implode. She couldn’t survive if it happened again. She would find some self-destructive behaviour that worked, track down some vampire slayers, bait them into killing her somehow. Her mind wouldn’t take it, couldn’t take it. “Do you think I was always like this? Do you think it was a smooth half century, living in fear and a relentless cycle of death- to be _nothing_ but someone else’s plaything?”

“I know it wasn’t,” Jasper told her.

The reminder of who she was releasing almost six hundred years of pent up misery at just brought her shame, and Eda let her head drop to further avoid his eyes. “What you must think of me, blubbering like a child.”

“I think the world of you darlin’. You have nothin’ to prove to me.” Giving in to himself, Jasper eased her orbit; slowly to avoid a repeat of what happened at the river. Normally he would be opposed to tampering with Eda’s reality, but he didn’t know what else to do. "Why’re you telling me this?"

Instantly her shoulders sagged as the woozy feeling slid away, replaced with a pulsing tranquillity that sedated everything else. Eda could see now how subtle his power actually was, that she had only been noticing the rapid prickliness because he had let her. It didn’t make her hollow, the change was as skilful as a magicians slight of hand, smooth as her own emotions. She welcomed the switch, allowing herself to relax. The world wasn’t attempting to swallow her whole anymore and the panic had left. “Because everything is temporary.” Her voice didn’t waver, deciding to speak from her unbeating heart. “And for a second I thought I’d lost you too.”

Jasper shook his head softly at the thought. “Never.”

“Don’t promise me you won’t leave.” She remembered how he’d left his friends, how he hadn’t even sent them a letter since. “Just don’t.” Eda didn’t know what she’d do if he did that to her. Everything had seemed so much clearer since meeting Jasper, warmer.

He huffed a laugh at her, as if he could live with himself if he abandoned her. Feeling the chaotic storm disappearing, Jasper drew back his influence, determining she was stable enough without his aid.

Now the calm had mostly returned, he aimed to make her bright again; naturally, because that need for Eda to actually enjoy her time around him stood as strong as ever. “Y’know ma’am, a very wise woman once told me…” Eda finally met his eyes through her eyelashes, and just like that he’s falling for her all over again. “You can’t keep blamin’ yourself-”

Immediately recognising the phrase, she muttered to herself, “I swear to god...”

“- Just blame yourself once and be done with it.”

“So pretentious.” Jasper let out a relived breath as he spotted the corner of her lips twitching in an attempt of fighting back a smile. “I can’t believe you let me say that.” She really was a hypocrite, always making fun of ancient vampires for their melodramatic speeches, only to become just as ostentatious as them.

Wanting still more, he lowers his voice deeper. “You’re like an angel, only with no wings.”

She wasn't bashful by nature, quite the opposite, but nothing could have prepared her for the way he was looking at her now. “So like a person?” Eda mumbled, shyly turning her face away from him to hide from what she forces herself to categorise as playful flirting.

He tilted his head to continue watching her smile grow. “No. Better.” Jasper feels drips, tiny potentials, of what he feels about Eda being reflected back at him. She isn’t there quite yet and he wouldn’t push her.

Instead he slowly raises, standing them up, and reluctantly releases her hands. They both feel the cold absence, though only he knows what it means. He doesn’t react outwardly.

They begin moving again, Eda picking up her case on the way. This time Jasper walks a step in front, leading her in the direction he thinks the forest is, because that’s where he knows she feels safest. He hadn't thought of Eda as someone who would need somewhere to hide before, but now it seemed she needed recharging. People had multiple layers which they showed others, and Eda had just revealed a new one to Jasper. It wasn't something to be taken lightly.

“You fought beside me,” he whispers as they enter the threshold of the woods less than an hour later. “Why didn’t you run?”

“And leave you to fight off all three? Absolutely not.” Neither remarked how they both knew he’d done it before. She lets out a happy sigh as the clinging tension melts into the trees as she passes, brushing her finger tips over the bark of an old tree. Rough, strong, unyielding (so long as she didn’t push too hard). Home. “Sometimes an alive cowboy is enough.” That was how friendship worked. Eda knew she couldn’t cherry pick the parts she preferred, couldn’t desert the pieces that didn’t fit. She just had to ride the wave and hope he’d do the same for her. “It’s enough for me anyway.” Eda’s thoughts swept to the hat abruptly. Of course… It was so obvious why Alice had gifted it to her.

Jasper eyes her rummaging through her case, raising an eyebrow as she comes up with the hat. He holds in a chuckle when she has to jump a very inhuman height to put it on his head. “You want this back?”

“Alice said it wasn’t really mine, that I was meant to give it to someone.” He seemed a little confused, but accepted it nevertheless, fixing it to sit right on his head. “Besides, I don’t know what to do with it. You keep it. It fits you better.” Eda can see now how big it must have looked on her. No wonder he found it so funny.

He decides not to tell her this is the first time anyone had given him anything, unsure how to put it into words he wouldn’t be embarrassed to say aloud. So instead he tries her trick and gathers all the gratitude he feels into a ball, packing it tightly, and rolls it at Eda.

Jasper knows it works when she gives a soft gasp, blinking away tears that could never materialise. It takes a few seconds for her to sort through the overflowing singular emotion he’s sent her, but she does it because she knows what it means. “You’re welcome,” Eda breaths out, barely audible.

“So you’re not scared of me?” He asked once again, looking for a final answer.

“No Jas.” She replies slowly, unable to help the giggling that slipped through at the ridiculousness of how many times he’d asked her that. “Never you.” Eda hoped that would be the last one.

To prove her point she bumps her shoulder into him, smirking when he fixed her with his own mischievous look.

Always eager for a contest, Jasper leans down and rams her, cackling as she squeaks and stumbles sideways off the path.

Steadying herself after a moment, she pounces at him. He dodges and takes off running, holding the hat to his head as he darts through the forest with Eda sprinting behind just out of reach.

The game was on.

It had been a rough night for both of them: a reminder that while they were undergoing profound personal changes, things were very much the same outside their bubble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for your comments, tell me how you like it ;)  
> Also, drinking game: take a shot everytime you see the word scared in this chapter


	21. Colours

At sunrise Jasper and Eda were walking through the woods in an easy quiet, taking no notice of the disco lights reflected from them. Their eyes glow, having fed just hours before. This time she had taken prosecutions and suggested Jasper wore the white shirt while hunting so they didn’t need to buy another yet. It’d worked and he looked clean enough. The shirt had been sacrificed, used as a rag to wipe his face with; abandoned at the site to scare whomever wondered upon it next.

Sometime in the night Jasper had stolen her case and refused to return it, having held it above his head where she was unwilling to reach- adamant in not giving him the satisfaction of needing to jump for it. Letting him have this victory, Eda had gracefully agreed that he could carry it for her. Not knowing what to do with her unusually empty hand, she settled for twirling fallen twigs to fill the space between her fingers and occasionally poking Jasper.

Having unearthed a map on the edge of the city, Eda had learned he’d been maintaining their course perfectly and taken them to the north-east corner of Iowa. Both had privately noted the way the states were counting down. Planning to stay on the border of Minneapolis meant there was only South Dakota, Montana and Idaho left before they entered Washington. Realistically it made sense, having already swam across the Mississippi river, but neither had noticed how fast time was passing before now.

Along the way they come across a vast meadow, maybe an abandoned farm plot, and figured they were due a change of pace. Pausing, the pair looked out onto the field from the forest edge.

Spindly burnt orange trees screened the edges, giving the illusion of secludedness. It was a riot of colour, the tall grasses, inflexible and scorched in their dryness, looked forgiving to Eda. There was no coordination like the basket displays in town, just a free-for-all orchestrated by the wind. Fall wild flowers gave the space levels, some stood on end appearing to reflect the brilliant yellow of the sun while others sprouted like purple squirrel tails.

Indulging herself, Eda takes a running dive at the meadow, flying into the air effortlessly to soar above into the centre.

For once Jasper doesn’t pursue. Instead he remained stationary, watching as she turns in the air, unfurling her arms like a bird and disappeared into the grass, seemingly gobbled up. The only signs of life is the thump she makes on impact and an airy giggle as all the breath is knocked out of her. Tiny grey birds erupted from within, squawking alarms at the presence of vampires.

After leaning the case against a tree and perching his hat on top, Jasper strides through the almost chest height grass towards her. He didn’t acknowledge the path he made behind him, not at all the straight line he had imagined himself walking in the hunt for Eda.

Tracking her down doesn’t take long, and he finds her exactly where she landed, on her back and shimmying into the ground to flatten the nest she’d made.

Eda peaks up at the appearance of his head and sends a closed-lip smile, freezing mid-wiggle as if they hadn’t spent every second together for officially two weeks. He thinks she looks remarkably like a cat right now, arms held close to her as to not crush anymore vegetation than necessary and stretching her legs out. “Hey handsome, you come here often?” Eda asks too innocently, despite not actually being up to no good, winking devilishly for added emphasis.

Jasper peered down at her over the grass, asking himself how this woman was as old as she said. Shrugging, he played along, “now and then darlin’.”

She laughs and pats the dirt beside her, enticing him to lay down so they could stay a while. The soil feels dry, knitted together by years of neglect. Though they didn’t sleep, after a night of chasing each other Eda wanted to waste a little time in this paradise, to pretend she wasn’t worried about what would happen when they got to Forks.

Rolling his eyes but amused, Jasper couldn’t come up a single reason why he shouldn't join her. Spinning on his heel, he falls backwards to the ground. It goes against everything not to catch himself, but he hits the ground hard anyway, entering a mild world of semi-darkness.

Eda feels the vibrations through her spine marking his arrival, marvelling for a moment at the way his hair fans in all directions like a halo. Fragments of his face are visible through the dense plants, just enough to piece together the expression. He meets her eyes and the automatic beam she gives at the sight of Jasper isn’t missed by him, nor is the pop of light in her orbit, however she doesn’t appear aware her reaction had altered, simply happy to be able to see him again. Dissatisfied by how little of Eda he could make out, Jasper begins to pluck the bamboo-like rods between their heads.

Although she would normally object in this instance she’s glad the feeling was mutual and looks to the sky to attempt to find shapes in the clouds. The sun breaks through the grass in flutters and together they bask in the almost-heat. She wonders if anyone noticed how pretty the sky was today; hopes the humans saw how clouds sailed by, gently passing toward any place the wind wished them to visit.

“What’s your favourite colour?” Jasper asks once a doorway had been made through the grass.

She didn’t hesitate, having decided long ago. “Red.” His brow flickers up at this snippet of information, having expected a different answer. Aside from blood, Eda associated red with sunsets and adventure, both things she wanted to experience indefinitely. There’s one cloud which could possibly become a three legged elephant and another that Eda thinks looks like a chair. They’re flouting away from each other. The thought of the chair being pulled out from under the elephant, and how the animal could topple over at any moment makes her chuckle quietly to herself

Jasper can’t hold back his own smile, watching as she’s transfixed by whatever her mind conjured up, entertained by the buzzing emotions as she thought about story lines. “I had you down as green,” he mutters in awe at how carefree she is beside him, not wanting to interrupt. To him it had been clear green should be the preferred choice. Even now, surrounded by nothing except flowers and what he predicted was a raccoon, Eda still smelt like moss to him.

“I _do_ love green.” They both laugh softly at how sincerely enthusiastic she sounds about something so simple, how unashamedly besotted she was with the world. “What about you cowboy? What’s your favourite colour?”

He doesn’t retaliate when her hand snakes through the grass to lightly prod his arm, thinking for a long time as he gazed at her. Eventually he shrugs. “Guess,” curious to hear what she thought.

Considering her options, Eda hummed to herself and rolls onto her stomach to keep from getting too distracted by the sky. Keeping within the same den she’d made, Eda lays her head on atop her crossed arms to really look at him. Although she’d been wrong to think the shirt would camouflage his red eyes (it’d done the opposite), it certainly flattered his features and he hadn’t seemed to mind. With a gasp, Eda busters her epiphany. “Blue!”

Jasper was positive this was how it felt to see the Earth through Eda’s eyes and swallowed thickly at the way she sparkled in the sun, flashing her teeth in delight. Without meaning to he magnified the serenity coming from her, because all of a sudden blue seemed like the best colour he’d ever seen (outside of the gold that were watching his expressions). “Correct.”

“I would like to thank Athena and my gambling gene for this win,” she declared her triumph quietly, nodding to herself and enjoying the lucidity he was radiating. She watches him close his eyes, stunned at how peaceful he looked.

If she stumbled upon him as a stranger, Eda would have thought he was unconscious; smiling in his sleep. All the tension he carried was being absorbed into the landscape, forging one of those rare celebrations when the near permanent militaristic vigilance went away, making him appear actually nineteen.

Jasper begins to reflect on his friendship with Eda (because at the end of the day he’s her friend first), what it had evolved into and how it had shifted over time.

Someone at some point had lied to him about love. Jasper had thought it would make his head spin, his blood pump, that his heart would never be still again; and it did all those things in a vampire way. Mostly it brought him security and the feeling of belonging which had been missing. Throughout his life Jasper had been a man that inspired nothing but dread. Even the humans could sense he was more dangerous than the advantage immortal. He had forever been someone who commanded, a born leader respected by his soldiers. And yet he followed Eda willingly, happily.

Never had he been so... soft with another person before. He’d never had someone wait for him to catch up, offer reassurance and be as patient with him until now. She was so gentle with him, careful without being cautious. There were no ulterior motives behind her smiles. It was a whole different universe than Maria. Eda never restricted him, never tried to control or manipulate. There were no punishments or hardships, no pain or threats. It was so easy to be around her. It’d brought out a side to him that Jasper hadn’t known was there. To meet someone who didn’t pull away or cringe at his appearance had been a culture shock at say the least. Jasper knew he had annoyed her with his disbelief about how unafraid she was but it was just so unheard of he just hadn’t been able to accept it. This wasn’t how he had come to expect to be treated. Somehow she had worked herself through his walls, and Jasper had welcomed her in.

Beside him Eda was having similar thoughts.

To most people she presented as two things: composed or mischievous. Eda flirted light heartedly with those she met, confident enough in her own self not to start unnecessary squabbles over silly things like territory. She allowed others to go only so far as to shake her hand or ambush a hug from her in Alice’s case, but guarded them from those deepest parts of herself where destructiveness resided, fearing they would turn away.

With Jasper it was different. He heightened her life, bringing it to new extremes. He didn’t make her whole because she was already a complete person. But the colours were more vibrant, the world was brighter; the calm he poured into a room clearing the fog to let her take in her surrounds without the hyper alertness. In those crushing moments he was always there to anchor her. Eda didn’t have to pretend around him. It was a new breed of liberty to be unreservedly herself with another.

Their entire dynamic was built on trust and understanding. Trust that the other wouldn’t lash out regardless of how far they pushed them, and understanding because they knew exactly how it felt to be in the others shoes – though not literally: Jasper refused to trade.

These quiet moments, when Jasper closed his eyes and allowed his mind to rid itself of battle strategy, they were just for her. At the same time, when Eda lay on her front, ignoring the shapes in the clouds in favour for appreciating the way his face glimmered at different intensities across his scars; this was just for him as well, even if she didn’t know why Jasper was more captivating.

"You have nice skin…" His ears prick at Eda’s mumbling, halfway through a breath and quieter than the ruffling grasses. It wasn’t meant for him to hear (though he does), just an escaped absent thought. The sincerity took him by surprise, for his skin was most certainly not nice by any means.

"Thanks, it's not for sale." Opening his eyes and doubling down on the effort to keep his influence to himself, Jasper allows himself to wink at her.

At his somehow flirtatious tone Eda’s eyes snap away to an unexpectedly intriguing bit of sky, as always praising her inability to blush. She rushed to apologise, “sorry...” It was rare for vampires to experience a slip of the tongue and she prayed he wasn’t offended or alienated, that he hadn’t taken it the wrong way. How could she have been so careless?

Chuckling at the flickers of embarrassment he senses from being caught and having her usual teasing aimed back at her, Jasper decides to not so subtly up the ante. She looks back at him as he begins to nonchalantly tugs up his sleeve to expose his forearm.

Taking a deep breath to ready himself, Jasper straightens his arm out on the ground before her, offering it up willingly. He’s content for Eda to see these parts of him, to exhibit in this indirect way how rotten he once was, can still be. A gust of wind picks up leafs from around them, trembling as if sensing the display. Eda’s at a loss for words, looking between his arm and face, asking to confirm what she thinks he’s suggesting. The corner of his mouth twitches in a quick smile, encouraging her closer.

Receiving the invitation she’d been watching for, Eda raises up onto her elbows and hesitantly creeps her hand towards the limb, curious if his scars feel the same as hers.

She withdraws slightly when he tenses, worried she’d misread something or that he’s changed his mind.

Jasper sighs at his own conditioned response, swallowing the venom that’s gathered, involuntarily readying for an attack. It didn’t matter that he’d been the one to initiate the action, he’d been too focused on her reaction that he’d forgotten to monitor his own. The pure inquisitiveness she’s casting helps him relax again, and he nods for Eda to resume her approach.

His suspense evaporates when her touch is feather light, using only the pad of one finger to outline the scar tissue, careful not to scratch. She starts with his fingers, brushing over the potholes as Jasper slowly rotates his hand to let her see his knuckles. His index finger was separated from the rest by a semicircle of teeth, and the side of his wrist were looped several times, overlapping wounds making the skin crease. Although she’s obviously seen sections before, to be permitted to map out the entire arm was a level of trust she wouldn’t scoff at, sensing the boundaries of their friendship were altering. It takes a few minutes for Eda to gradually work her way up to the crook of his elbow as she studies each curve.

Eda traces the teeth marks like she’s handling an ancient book, interpreting the depth and the way they’d been dragged along, imagining each incident that carved them. Hardly any are made of just one tooth or faint, the times he’d caught them in the act or had narrow escape. Most are jagged and sunken, jarring reminders that people had tried to rip him into pieces. The small fraction of what’s on show only strengthens her theory that there could be thousands of these scars on him.

When she’d memorised them all Jasper stayed still, watching as she contemplated her reaction, observing body language. This was new for both of them. Coming to a conclusion she sits up and he copies, moving in sync so they’re side by side but facing opposite directions, inches from knocking knees with each others hips. Stealing herself and crossing her legs, Eda reaches her arm out in front of him, granting the same trust Jasper had given her.

As his hand neared her muscles began to twitch, repressing the call to guard against the incoming touch. He stops, looking back to her and checking the nervously pulsating emotions. Concentrating on breathing and remaining in place, Eda smiled brightly at him, beckoning him forwards.

Unlike Eda, he begins at her elbow and manoeuvres down, delicately passing over the scars in deliberate strokes. Her sores are the same as his, grouped together in clusters of gouges, results of repeated defence techniques. They collected on the outside of her arm and around her fingers, though the remaining skin had not been spared being incessantly chewed on. There were patches that had been torn off and hurriedly reattached, and wedges fraying at their edges where she had been pealed, smears which indicated the inflicter having to be yanked apart. The grooves along her wrists were bent out of shape, and snapping teeth had spilt the digits making her fingerprints stiff.

Not wanting to see the reminders of her past, Eda looked to the scars that hooked over his jaw and lined his eyebrow. So many had tried to murder Jasper, and though none had succeeded the symbols of his resilience plagued him. He had endured constant battle longer than she had, suffered more injuries. Silently she pledged that he wouldn’t have to face his attackers alone again, for as long as Jasper allowed her. She didn’t want people to hurt him anymore. Jasper deserved happiness and safety.

The urge to rest her forehead on his shoulder grows when Jasper moves his hand to cup the underside of her wrist, staring intensely at her hand as if he was attempting to read her palm. She would only need to lean forwards, and inwardly cursed the physical age of her body. The impulse was inappropriate, especially when the distance they had mostly kept each other at was starting to shorten and the barrier of touch had begun to ease.

He wants to hold her hand, to entwine their fingers. But he doesn’t- because he’s content to just be her friend. Jasper isn’t going to force her into reflecting his own affections, even though he could. It wouldn’t be real. It wouldn’t be her. It’s not even on his radar of things he wants if he’s honest with himself, just an errant thought digging for the simplest solution.

Unexpectedly Eda turns her hand to put their palms together, comparing the size of his long fingers against hers. He can feel the ridges on her hand. It’s as rough as his. The skin is almost leathery, damaged beyond repair, just like his.

This felt right.

They meet each others gaze, both for the first time noticing how much this feels like home, a place neither had known before now.

She wants to hug him.

He wants to kiss her.

A heartbeat breaks the moment as Eda’s head whips to look behind her, breaking the spell between them.

Through the grass she spots a pair of cat eyes, the same height as her in this position. Spinning around to sit shoulder to shoulder with him, Eda squints to identify what’s ventured so close. It’s a mountain loin, probably on its daily patrol. She grins when the cat lets out a snarl, tilting her head and giggling as it spits.

“You’re missing it,” Eda told him under her breath when she saw Jasper was instead staring at her, still blinking through the haze. The sound of her voice makes the cat flee, rethinking challenging the two apex predators and surrendering.

 _Am I?_ He thinks to himself, bewitched by her yearning to lure the animal far enough to touch, in spite knowing it wouldn’t dare.

Looking to the little sprinkle of wild flowers growing at his other side, a high-risk idea presents itself to him while the cat retreats into the trees. Giving in, Jasper picked the brightest and pinched off its roots. Eda watched him from her peripheral vision, not having thought he liked flowers, becoming mystified when he turned back to her with a sheepish expression. Surely he wouldn't…

Jasper leaned towards her slightly, bracing his hand behind him to keep himself from getting too close, and held the flower out to her.

“For me?” She asked in an unusually high pitched tone, stunned at the gesture. If they could her cheeks would be redder than any beetroot. He nods once, and Eda takes the flower slowly. It looks similar to a daisy only with pale violet petals. “No ones ever given me flowers before,” Eda whispered to herself, admiring the daintiness of the plant and shielding it against the wind. “I love it, thank you.” He smiles wider the longer Eda gazes at the gift.

The emotions rippling from her are the same as his, just aimed at the flower. So close. So distant. Jasper wants to convince her to stay here, right where they are; hidden in this shadowy realm, surrounded by partitions that make it seem like they’re the only people in the whole world. But he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to contain her like that.

Seeing him ghost away, Eda glances over to the spot he had been sitting to find it empty. The click of a camera somewhere draws her attention to Jasper standing a few feet in front pointing the lens at her over the grass. He thought the picture would be a little arty for his taste if Eda wasn’t in it, cradling the flower in the cosy nook she’d created, looking off to the side in search of him.

Smirking, she skipped off to her case and comes back with the hat. “My turn,” Eda tells him as they swap. After fixing the hat on his head Jasper looked to her.

It was like the rest of reality faded in comparison, those glorious eyes were a blessing from long forgotten gods. Transitions between hues, impurities and anomalies would announce themselves, sometimes giving them an almost carnivorous quality; a wildness, as if you were greeted by the eyes of a hawk. Despite this, a distinct cloudiness similar to the billowing of a nebula gave her eyes depth. The coldness could become laughter depending on the way she carried them. Her eyes could welcome you, pierce you, caution you.

Her starlight eyes met his gaze, and in that instant drowning seemed the only way.

These were the eyes that looked at Jasper and twinkled no matter the lighting.

She clicked the picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's legit just our man Jas pouring his love out to Eda and her being completely oblivious.


	22. Moth Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one, also, hello.

Cars sat empty along the pavement collecting the odd leaf. It seemed like the clouds had developed a fascination with the full moon and had wrapped themselves around it, though the faint glow passed through the fog, tinting them white and grey. The store fronts were crammed with displays, which was a shame because not a single person was there to admire them – apart from the vampires of course. However they weren’t interested in half price cups of coffee, and they certainly weren’t afraid of no ghosts. Thunder vibrates through the air in heavy crashes and Eda dances ahead, eager for the rain that will follow any second and in exceptionally high sprites. “I knew your great great grandfather,” she calls, tiptoeing along the curb in long strides. “He was a sore looser too!”

Shaking his head (both at her teasing and at the ballerina-esque routine playing out in front of him), Jasper embraced the role of a willing audience, having just enough self control not to join in. “You have no proof.”

“But I also have no proof it’s not true. Gotcha there cowboy.” Catching his eyes for a moment before twirling towards him, she manages to capture his hand and spin under it; darting away before he has the chance to snatch her. Chuckling at her infectious excitement, Jasper takes another look around to check they’re alone. “You know at some point you’re going to have to take me dancing,” she sings, having noticed the persistent ritual and discretely drawing his attention to the present.

It worked, and he focused back on Eda, every thought centring around setting her movements to music. “I didn’t know you’d like to.”

“Are you kidding? I’d love to.” As if to emphasis her point, she hopped in the air, landing silently and continuing on.

The grace of her waving arms spoke of her experience. “In that case it’s settled.” Before or after the Cullen’s was the real question for Jasper, and he decided before was the right answer: sooner the better. At last the heavens opened, pelting them both and interrupting Jasper's train of thought about her reaction when she learnt of his own talent.

“Am I in for a strip tease?” Eda asks, only just able to make out that he was taking off his coat as the streets blended through her whirling.

“Here,” he held out his jacket, unfazed about becoming steadily drenched as the storm quickly worsened. She stops, frowning at the garment and the way cold drops drip down her back. “I insist. Here,” Jasper repeated, thrusting it at her again.

“No I’m-” Rolling his eyes Jasper flings the coat at her and she catches reflectively, keeping it from landing in the puddle she’s about to jump over. With a fake glare Eda puts it on, knowing he wouldn't take no for an answer. The sleeves were too long and the hem falls to her mid calf but she’ll struggle through, resisting the urge to stick her nose into the fabric. It shouldn’t come as a shock but the coat smells so deeply of him. Why this scent brings such comfort Eda still doesn’t fully understand- but she’ll readily accept.

Jasper likes the look of her in his coat and turns away to hide the extent of his smile, seeing a theatre a little ways down the street turn off its lights. The staff lock the door, rattling the hinges to test the strength before walking home. “I told you. You are a sore looser,” he hears Eda remark, noticing she’s resumed her frolicking.

He doesn’t listen to the human’s talk of what’s showing the next day, too preoccupied with running after Eda. “I have an idea. It’s… technically illegal.”

In an instant she’s hooked, stopping in her tracks to see what’s sparked his interest. “All I’m hearing is let’s do it.”

“We break into there and-,” he gestures to the theatre and Eda’s already jogging to the doors before he finishes telling her the plan.

“I’m in!”

Effortlessly she pokes the locks out of place without setting off the alarm, years of practice making the hole smooth (easy for the mortals to repair in the morning). She reaches for the handle but jumps at the sight of a large hand already wrapped around the metal bar, stepping away and letting Jasper open the door for her. “Ma’am.” He tips his hat to the side, and it takes a considerable effort not to laugh at the water tea-potted over the edge. Sparing him the lecture about how she could open doors all by herself, Eda blows a kiss in thanks as she enters. He watches after her, grinning as he takes off his hat and follows closely.

Making sure the door is shut behind them, Jasper turns to look around, seeing she’s already wondering down the halls on the other side of the reception. He barely takes note of the many crystal chandlers, the recently varnished wooden floors, how the air tastes of cigar smoke and alcohol wafting in sour tangs from his left. The glitz and the glam is out of his comfort zone and honestly feels under-dressed though nobodies around to see; however he can appreciate how the height of finery refuses to become lost in the dark, now reminiscent of stars against the kinked ceiling. “We could get arrested for this,” he warns though makes no move to retreat, unhurriedly following the almost non-existent beat of her steps when she vanishes through a distant archway.

“They won’t catch us both,” her voice echoes quietly in the empty corridors, too discreet for human ears. Eda grazes her hand along the seasoned wallpaper, allowing the halls to escort her wherever they lead. “I just have to out run you.” She can smell the expensive perfumes of the mortals that had walked these corridors just hours ago, the blood their bodies carried, the polish of their shoes; can almost picture the scores of them, lumbering around like cattle, relaying on their weak eyes to guide them.

“I ain’t paying your bail, 'cause we both know I’d win that race,” the matter-of-factly tone makes her roll her eyes.

Wagging a finger at Jasper when he appears at her side, Eda protests, “not from what I remember.”

“I always win.” He takes the case from her slack grip, not acknowledging the way their fingers brush in the pass over. It’s been three days since they were at the meadow, and ever so slowly light causal touches like these had become the norm. Their walls were dropping and neither minded enough to rebuild them, soothed by the unspoken bond that had been forged.

Eda enjoyed the innocent touches more than she was willing to admit, brushing it off as natural part of companionship, that they were bound to become more comfortable the longer they were around each other. “Y’know for a vampire you’ve got a pretty selective memory.” She knew friendship wasn’t the whole truth of what was evolving (she wasn’t a fool), though for the life of her couldn’t place the remaining pieces of the jigsaw. “I win at least half the time.” There was something forming inside some not too distant cranny of her brain, something with the power to crush their alliance like a wrecking ball. But that wasn’t a desirable possibility, at least how she predicted the outcome, and refused to embrace its strength. It seemed unlikely to her that the fleeting ideals were reciprocated, so they were pushed away to deal with once the empath was far enough to not feel. She wholeheartedly blamed his chivalrous upbringing and the barely there accent, the way he listened unthinkingly- always absorbed in whatever she was babbling about. However for now denial would have to suffice; she would have to hope the realisation didn’t erupt in his presence whenever it happened.

Returning the bag to the hand outstretched expectantly, he smiles sweetly at her, not missing the bubble of emotion. It was unrealised: she wasn’t there yet. But there wasn’t any rush. Jasper knew they had eternity, or until they got to Washington, whichever came last was enough for him. “I’ll just call the cops myself,” Jasper supposed, holding his arms behind his back, preferring to explore their surroundings visually rather than by touching. “Then we’ll see who’s fastest.” There was not a speck of dust to be seen, but the overly vintage signed photographs of past performers seemed a little cliche. If there was one thing Jasper had disliked since he was human, it was cliches. Except that is in the form of his boots and his hat and his belt buckle and that one year he may or may not have worn a _borrowed_ sheriffs star badge (which didn’t count because it had been a gift from Peter and Charlotte)- obviously.

“Snitch.” At the sound of her laughter Jasper looked back to Eda, thinking he should ask his brother and sister if they still had that badge, but then reconsidered… maybe he shouldn’t contact them after so long with a request. Besides, he didn’t even know where they lived anymore.

They come to a impressive carpeted staircase about three- maybe four- stories high, leading to the balconies. If the aesthetic of these stairs were anything to go on the pair had a wonderful sight waiting for them. Rubbing her hands together, Eda proposes a winner takes all settlement to their gambling, “I bet I can- Jas!” Her wager was interrupted by Jasper blurring up the stairs, and shaking her head at his bad sportsmanship, wastes no time chasing after him.

He disappears over the top and shows no signs of stopping as Eda shadows, letting go of her case and ignoring the way it tumbled back down. Not pausing when she enters the open space of the balconies, she only distantly notices the rows upon rows of chairs as she sprints down the path between them, following the drumming.

Running as fast as she could, Eda propels herself off the little wall at the edge of the floor in one smooth movement, howling in pure joy as she flew through the air, taking the chance to be amazed at the stage.

The company had seemingly been preforming a production set in a home, based on how the whole of the space had been designed as an inviting living room or study. Fake walls towered in the back with painted on windows looking out on a view of rolling hills and a lake. Enormous bookcases lined the gaps the windows didn’t cover, crammed with titles of all colours gathering dust; just decoration. Three long sofas caged an Egyptian rug at centre stage, off setting a sleek grand piano standing unassumingly to the side.

However when she lands and turns back to see where she’s just come from, even in the middle of the grandeur of the auditorium, something is missing.

With a buzz the purple tint is lifted as the lights come to life, coating the walls deep reds and vibrant golds, and the domed ceiling glitters white marble. Everything is bold and beautiful, a testament to human architecture. It’s heavenly, enclosed and somehow intimate in spite of the mammoth size. Eda thinks she really should have gone to the theatre long before now if only to see this.

"Fancy seein’ you here,” Jasper speaks up from the wings, a smile so wide it should have cracked his face. It’s one of her favourites: crooked and all teeth. “Told you I’d win.”

“Because you’re a cheater,” she accused, spinning to him and unable to help mirroring his expression as he walked out from behind the thick burgundy curtains. Jasper disregards the call to open his arms for her as Eda pranced towards him, knowing it shouldn’t hurt the way it does when she passes having already seen how her eyes were trained on the piano beside him. It wasn’t right to miss something that wasn’t his, and fights to keep his face untroubled.

Settling herself at the piano and shifting the stool to her liking, Eda plays the first few seconds of a sinister song. Recognising the sound, Jasper snorted, “Dracula. Really?”

She laughed as he walked away into the wings, “oh come on Jas, that’s the peak of comedy right there.”

After rummaging back stage for a short while, he comes back carrying an acoustic guitar. Grabbing the sofa behind her and pulling it closer, he lounges along the arm and leans backwards to watch her play. “Well since you’re putting on a ritz,” Jasper answers her unspoken question, having noticed her arched brow. He lays the guitar in his lap, adjusting the strings slightly before beginning to pluck them.

Finding a sound he likes Jasper nods, signalling for Eda to join on the piano and they create an unanticipated solemn tune. Having expected the guitar to sound like a lute (an instrument she was familiar with) Eda frowns at their result, scooting to a higher key to shift the tone. She slows to change the tempo from eerie to cheerful and he watches the way her fingers dance, grinning when they come to an agreement and speeding up to match the gusto. Collaborating, they come to mould something light-hearted and find themselves humming along to the improvised melody, harmonising as it becomes rich and almost romantic as she keeps pace with Jasper's playing.

Surprised at what they’ve made, Eda peeps through her hair to her partner in crime and has to remind herself that she isn’t a jewel to be cherished. She was born to inflict pain and suffering, to reap and to harvest the living and unliving alike. She’s nothing except sharp prickly edges, chipped; filled with razors and needles, held together with staples and tape. But the way Jasper's gazing at her says something different- or maybe that’s just the music putting unrealistic scenarios in her head.

They roll to a stop at the same time, chuckling at the unforeseen easiness of falling into rhythm with each other. “So you know how to play guitar but not how to make sand castles?” Eda starts, turning on the stool to see him sliding down to sit on the cushions correctly.

“I used to play as a human,” he shrugged, “where did you learn to play piano?”

“I was there when it was invented, this version at least.” Taking off his coat she laid it across the keys, thinking over her next words carefully. There was one subject that had been hanging around her head since meeting Jasper, and things couldn’t go any further until she put it out in the open. Even if they remained just friends, she could not in good conscience carry on unknowing. “Can I ask you a question?” He nodded, slightly apprehensive about what’s to come but willing to divulge. “You were changed in 1863. In Texas, and Alice said you were a Major… There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Jasper wasn’t startled by the gentle grilling, having been waiting for when she would address the elephant in the room. “I lied about my age to join the civil war when I was seventeen.”

“You were a confederate.” It wasn’t a question and she kept his stare, daring him to lie to her.

However it was unnecessary: he would never lie to her. “I was.” She sighed at the confirmation of what she already knew, though her disappointment in him didn’t outweigh his own regret. “I can’t remember much but I know I worked on a ranch like my father and that I didn’t finish school. We were poor and I saw the war as an opportunity to make something of myself, to make my family proud…” He spoke in whispers, remorse oozing through his low rumbling, “I don’t believe in what it stood for anymore. I’m sorry Eda, I was on the wrong side of history.”

Thinking over his apology, eventually she decided she could live with that. He showed no signs of harbouring the prejudices she associated with the American civil war, and a lot could change in a century. There was no reason to hold grudges for things that happened so long ago when they did not linger into the present. “I believe you.” She saw the rush of relief on his face and didn’t want him to think he was off the hook so easily. “But you’re on thin ice. If I catch you saying or doing anything that indicates otherwise I will leave you in Italy.”

Jasper smiled despite the context, glad his human life hadn’t caused much of a rift. “I promise I’ve grown up,” he said, wanting to reinforce his stance.

“Yeah no shit you’re like eight foot.” With the short investigation over, Eda rounded the sofa to sit beside him, leaving a space between them (for Jesus).

It’s easy to relax again with Eda nearby, and the tension is quickly cast away. “You’ve lived a long time,” he remarks.

Turning to him and propping her elbow on the back of the sofa, Eda’s ready for the questioning to be returned. “I have.”

“What was the war like in England?”

It’s not one of the hard hitting ones she had expected, though Eda answers all the same. “I was actually in a well for most of that decade so I don’t really know.”

His eyebrows raise, more amused than surprised, resuming playing the guitar quietly. “Of course you were in a well. It’d be silly to be anywhere else.”

“Now you’re catching on...” She watches him nimbly move across the strings; twisting his fingers in all sorts of shapes to form chords, sliding his hand across the neck in an almost caress. It was fascinating see him practically tickle the instrument with such care and appreciation, to be so attentive to something comparatively breakable was both in character yet utterly out of the ordinary. She had reasoned the peace she felt whenever he was in sight as his gift. She’d pretended her staring was just a coincidence whenever he met her gaze. But that wasn’t the whole story was it? There was more, lurking just behind the denial, Eda knew there was more.

“You must have met some interestin’ people in your time?” Jasper whispers, bringing Eda out of her trance.

Glancing back to his face, she finds he’s still observing her from the corner of his eye and smiles, coming up with just the right story. “I once met a hard working goat fucker who wanted to become the world’s top dictionary salesman. He claimed his house was haunted by the previous owner, despite having built the house himself… When I went after him he built a wall around his property out of bales of hay and declared it a free country, saying not only must I count every piece of straw but also that I had to be invited in to do him any harm.”

He listens to her tale, enjoying the buzz from the fond memory and knowing that was his cue to prompt, "what happened next?”

“I counted that straw and let him go. A great mind like that shouldn’t be wasted.” Jasper frowned at her, not understanding why such a tiresome human had been allowed to live. “What about you? Any funny mortals cross your path?” She doesn't tell him the real reason she hadn’t killed the man was because another of their kind got to him first. It'd been for the best: she had honestly intended to spare him despite knowing leaving a human alive who knew of their existence was against the Volturi laws, no matter how misguided his beliefs about them were.

“Humans don’t talk to me much.” Eda had no trouble believing that. It was obvious the near infinite patience he had for her didn’t extend to the mortals, merely indifferent as long as they kept their distance. He didn’t hate them, simply knew where they stood on the food chain. “But there was a newborn who tried to trade his neighbours child for his freedom. In hindsight he was most likely Satan.”

“His neighbours child?” That peeked her intrigue; even for a newborn that was low. “What did you do?”

“Well I went on a regular wake snakes sort of spree, and I went here and there turnin', twistin' and doublin' about until I didn't know where I was looking for this kid-”

“I didn’t understand a word of what you just said...” She battled to keep her face blank, struggling to translate what exactly had happened but entertained enough not to mind.

“He was so poor, he had a tumble-weed as a pet.” That one got her, made her snort and break her poker face. “He couldn’t bribe me, he had no money, not that I would have let him go even if he had, so he lied about the kid.” Sensing her interest, he held the guitar out to her and after a little hesitation she took it. She mimicked the posture Jasper had taken with the instrument, placing one hand at the top and her other at the centre, picking at the strings to hear each of their sounds, then pressed down at the top to pick at them again, listening to the difference. “While I was distracted he escaped... Maria wasn’t very pleased about that.” With a huff of laughter, more at himself than the story, he sinks deeper into the couch. “She was madder than a wet hen when Lucy and Nettie told her... I was findin’ bits of my arms around the barn for weeks-.” They both winced at the unpleasant buzzing the strings gave when she plucked too sharply, and Jasper suddenly remembered he hadn’t told her the whole truth about his time with Maria.

Eda looked up at his arm as if the scars would appear any different now she knew not all had been inflicted by the newborns he trained. Some of them had occurred at Maria’s teeth. Which ones? How many times had she hurt him? She had screwed with his head, somehow led him to believe what they had was love while trying to destroy him. Maria had rebuilt him into a weapon to be used and mistreated him, fed him lies and punished him when he hadn’t been cold enough.

She was glad he’d agreed to killing his maker, because when Eda met her (and she was going to find Maria eventually), Maria wouldn’t live to see the next sunrise. She would guarantee it. “Lucy and Nettie?” Who were they, and why had they ratted him out? Had they played any role in his suffering?

“Maria’s sisters.”

Eda could wipe them from the Earth as well. “Are they alive?” He shook his head. Too bad: she would have made their deaths slow.

At the fury steadily building Jasper leaned towards her. “Mind if I cut in?” He offered gently, and she moved her hands to grip the sides, grateful to have an excuse to withdraw and prevent any real harm coming to the instrument. “Watch me,” he instructs, playing an unhurried song. It feels unusual to play with his non-dominant hand, but it’s simple enough for what he aims to do. “Now you try.”

Eda copies and produces an exactly identical tune. “Much better.” The duel meaning isn’t lost on him, feeling the hostile flavour of her orbit curve into optimism, not completely unaware of the reasoning for the shift.

All things had an end, and Maria’s was coming for her.

She’s still concerned about the persistent presence of Maria, but can see he doesn’t want to talk about it so leaves it alone, making peace with the death warrant already being signed. They take turns on the guitar, Jasper sets a few chords at a time and she replicates them flawlessly as he teaches her what Eda comes to realise is a lullaby when she plays it as one continuous piece. Unknown to her Jasper had composed it himself, used it as something to centre on and to self-sooth after the wars. He knew she wasn’t aware of the meaning behind the melody, though it seemed to have the same effect.

If she pretended hard enough, focused on the background of the stage instead of the thousands of seats behind her, this moment almost felt domestic. Eda could make-believe that this was her own living room; her piano, her bookcases with her books on them, her sofas and her windows. She could imagine coming home after a hard day doing a job she liked, kicking off her shoes before watching television and... whatever it was the mortals did these days to relax. There would be a bed upstairs she could sleep in, and a fridge in the next room full of food she could eat without needing to be sick afterwards. Jasper fit with the vision as if he had always been there. She could picture him strolling into the room cradling their house cat while humming some song he'd heard on the radio, or reading the newspaper in the mornings, or kissing her on his way in from work- wait...

“What’s our exit strategy?” Jasper said out of the blue.

She's not as disturbed at the unexpected idea of kissing Jasper as she feels she ought to be, but stops that fantasy before it can develop. “Exit strategy?” Eda repeats, noticing the two pairs of clumsy footsteps racing around them a second before the sound of doors slamming against walls broke the peace as the force made the lights above shake. “We’re going to die,” she mumbles theatrically, setting the guitar carefully on the floor as to not damage it.

“You’re under arrest!” A man shouted from the door at the far end of the audience, stomping down the isles though getting no where fast, clearly unfamiliar with the lay out of the building and without his teammate.

“RUN!” Jasper cheers to Eda, snatching her hands to heave her to stand. They bounce off each other in the rush, overexcited. Tripping over the instrument at her feet, they run at a human speed to make it more interesting, and she picks up his coat on the way. He herds her towards the wings before leaping off stage, jumping on the chairs of the audience and moving along them like a tightrope walker, stretching his arms out to appear he has to at least try to keep his balance. Eda peeks out from behind the curtain to watch the comical scene unfold.

The officer trying to chase him spits curses at him because Jasper's two steps ahead and still manages to make it look like a struggle. He pretends to wobble, only to leap to the next row to evade a lumbering attempt at grabbing his leg.

“Stop right there!” Another cop appears from the same door the other had came from, looking confused but enthusiastic in spite of his distance from them, running towards Jasper and fumbling to put away his torch (and dropping it).

“You!” The first points at Eda, furious and in search of a seemingly easier target. “Come ‘ere!” Giggling at the mortals attempt at authority, she springs out from behind the curtain, pouncing off the stage and joining Jasper in hopping on the chairs. “Stop it!”

“But you just said-”

“I’ll have you bustin’ rocks!”

At the threat Jasper stops, and cranks up their interest when both humans look to him, resuming the pursuit when they haul themselves after him again. Eda makes an easy escape, stepping down from the chairs and jogging through the doors the police had entered through. As she scampers along the halls she passes the stairs she’d raced Jasper up, and plucks her case from the bottom.

Jasper didn’t stop making the cops chase him until he’d heard the double doors of the theatre open, signalling Eda’s exit, and stepped down from the chair. He stood with his hands ready behind his back for a minute as the cop caught up with him, and moved with them to let himself be handcuffed but doesn’t listen to the men reciting his rights.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” One asks, fastening the handcuffs until he knew they should be painfully tight.

Jasper’s careful not to breath in, but taunts them with the oxygen he’d saved. “What you saw was actually the ghost of Juliet from the 1800’s-”

“Shut the fuck up kid or you’ll spend more than just the night in the slammer.”

“Promise?” He winks at the man not currently behind him to further antagonise them, and receives a baton to the head. The wood didn’t stand a chance, snapping on impact and falling to the floor. Jasper can see the humans holding the remains between them, senses their confusion and fear. “I’ve got a thick skull,” he reasons, out of air and walking with the police to allow himself to be dragged. If he had found himself in this situation a mere month ago the men would have already been dead, but he was a changed man- told Eda he was anyway. Now it was time to live up to his claims.

///

Once outside Eda began to pace, feeling too full of energy and worried about what if Jasper accidentally slipped up and killed the men. She pushes the thought away, trusting Jasper’s recent self control and knowing she’d help with the bodies if he had.

Why was she so worried?

Sounds of protests and insults catch her attention, stopping her pacing when she sees Jasper and not trying to hold back her laughter when she takes note of him swaying with their shoving to keep them from hurting themselves. He’s letting himself be manhandled, not too bothered about being scruffed by the collar of his shirt.

She can see his eyes spinning when he exits the building, searching, and the smile when they spot her.

They make eye contact and Jasper frees himself faster than the police can blink, unable to be away from her like gravity or a magnet. He breaks the handcuffs and the grip on the back of his shirt, and he thinks it’s more like he’s running for Eda rather than to her, knows his whole face lights up and she sees it.

“Hey get back here!”

They both ignore the police’s yells, Jasper grabbing her hand as he runs passed. “Go! Go!” Eda finds herself gripping on for dear life, dashing through the streets.

They catch their breath against a wall because they’re weirdly out of breath from the rush of the chase.

She looks at him, his chest heaving against the buttons of his shirt with his hands on his hips, he still has the handcuffs wrapped around one of his wrists, his hair creating a backdrop to his face, and can’t help but think: _Oh fuck._

This feeling most certainly wasn’t friendship. Friends didn’t want to kiss each other. She was in so deep and she was only just seeing it.

This was love. True and pure love. It demanded to be heard, demanded a space in her head. She never wanted to be without this, never wanted to leave his side. She loved that fucker. The very thought of being separated from him again pained her. She had wondered before about the way her skin yearned for his touch and mourned the loss, but she’d never imagined she’d do this to herself- to Jasper.

And then she sees that he isn’t looking at her eyes, he’s staring at her lips, and to Eda it makes sense to think nothing of it. Obviously Jasper was just reacting to her emotions: there was no way in her mind that he was doing anything more than reflecting. She feverishly shoves the feeling away again before Jasper can understand what she’s making him do.

This was bad.

But she was in luck. Whatever higher power guided the creatures of the night was smiling down on Eda, because a pair of humans strolled by just as she thinks he catches a glimpse of it.

They seemed in love enough. Enough for what she needed anyway. And what she needed was a cloak. She follows the couple and Jasper frowns at her, wondering if she’s insane no doubt. Testing his resolve like this was dangerous.

“I’m liking the bracelet,” she remarks, trying to distract him from thinking too hard.

“Yeah well I thought I’d mix it up a little, might even get an earring.”

“You should.” Eda accidentally puts her hand on his and jumps away, holding it to her to prevent a repeat. “Sorry.” These touches felt different now she wanted more.

Jasper grins because even though he would like nothing more than to reach after her, he can’t show her that. The endearment is brushed off, not paying any mind to the emotions of humans, and he doesn’t notice it’s coming from three different directions. “If you wanted to hold my hand all y’had was ask darlin’.”

Though she tries to stop the gigging it just comes out in quiet bursts, and she rushes to scoff at him. “I don’t know where it’s been.”

He keeps feeling that love.

///

Eda manages to strangle her discovery into hiding, tries to convince herself that it’s just a passing crush, that it’d fade, that it’d leave her the fuck alone so they could go back to the easy companionship.

It doesn’t, and she knows Jasper's giving her weird looks.

“Do you know them?” He asks sometimes, confused why she’s been following the most recent in a long line of human couples.

Whenever she couldn’t cling to humans’ shadows she kept herself at a distance ahead of him. As the day passed Jasper thought it was less like she wanted to adventure as it always had been before, and more like she was trying to get away from him.

And Jasper let her.

He had thought this would happen eventually: no one could love the nightmare that was Jasper Whitlock. He would always be the evil red eyed creature that lived under children’s beds and the ghost that passed you in the hall, the presence that made you doubt you were alone in a dark room.

Something must have tipped her off to his feelings, maybe she had noticed the longing in his eyes. Or worse, he had projected what he wanted her to feel accidentally and she’d noticed, and now felt unsafe in case he did it again. Regardless of how he’d done it, he’d creeped her out, made things awkward.

But on the other hand, Eda never once sent him away. She simply wanted to keep her distance, though sometimes it appeared even that was a struggle, and seemed to have to remind herself of this if she found herself coming too close. It was like she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but that just didn’t make any sense no matter how he looked at it. Her emotions were of no help. They had never been so jittery, coming and going faster than Jasper could keep up with them. If he could get nauseous he’d be green. So many things flew around her head.

Knowing if he started questioning her too deeply she’ll cave, Eda builds countless bouquets because she loves those flowers as deeply as she feels for Jasper. But in mid October it’s harder and harder to find the plants she needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't stand writing a story about a racist, so in my AU Jasper signed up to get away from the cycle of poverty he was in at home. He understands that he fucks up and has spent almost 100 years regretting it. Fuck Seph for doing our boy dirty for no reason.


	23. MC Hammer - Horror Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y'all didn't have a lil laugh at the title of this chapter I swear to god, on god, with god: Breakin' Dawn.  
> Here’s a lil ambiance if you want, just a lil fun: https://youtu.be/IvJQTWGP5Fg

Margaret was loosing a staring contest with a small library clock. She’d been at it all day, yet still the clock would not yield.

They had just an hour left before they’d be allowed to go home, but the damp patches on the ceiling seemed to grow faster than the clock ticked. She had turned the main lights off hours ago, and the library was now dimly illuminated by several lamps around the room, casting a soft glow around her desk and plunging everything outside of these safe havens into darkness.

The floor creaked and Margaret peered over her thick rimmed glasses, finding a man browsing the isles, looking at the titles but not really seeing. Under different circumstances she might have been alarmed seeing the back of a man’s head skulking between the bookcases so late at night. But it was only George. The irregular and trudging footsteps was all the evidence she needed, dragging his feet as if she wasn’t just as drained as him. Every now and then his shoes would give a shrill yelp against the floor, not helping her composure.

“-This broad takes us out to watch a movie and being the nice guy I am I let her pick the film. Biggest regret of my life. I thought it looked a bit cheesy, but I ain’t no chicken or nothin’ so I went along with it-”

Admittedly she hadn’t been listening too closely to his chatter, and didn’t know very much about him even though they’d been co-workers for over two years. If it wasn’t for the name tag they each wore she would have been calling him something with a D like David or Declan; or maybe Richard since he was so deserving of its shorthand. She knew the basics (his mother’s name, that he was only here for the pay check no matter how measly) but it was just surface level information, and she liked it that way.

Margaret tried to block out his droning, though the pages of her book might have well been written in Mandarin as he sauntered closer, and the volume raises.

“-By the way, did you see those black and whites outside the theatre last night, a few hours after I left it, ‘bout 3am? I heard they was just a couple kids, dirty no goods probably just using it as a play to hook up-”

Her age was never more obvious in times like these, when George jumps up on her desk with his back to her, and she bites her tongue against reminding the man that the rules of the library applied to him as well. His backside crushed the top of her book, compressing the spine and crinkling the pages.

Unusually (for George anyway) he seemed to be expecting an answer and looked over his shoulder at her when she gave none. Her glare must have been less controlled than she’d thought if the frown he gave was any clue, as the realisation dawned on him that he hadn’t sat on a flat surface began to sink in. “Uh, sorry,” he murmured quickly, lifting himself to allow her to pull the book from under him. It was all the apology Margaret got before he launched back into his story, clearly forgetting she hadn’t spoken. “Big Mike, you know Big Mike,” - she didn’t - “thought he heard music coming out of there but I don’t believe it. I think he was just a bit whiffled-”

Margaret stopped listening.

The wind whistled through the vents and she narrowed her eyes at the sound; the trees outside weren’t moving as she expected them to with the gale.

“Did you hear something?” George asked, having heard the noise as well.

Reclining in her seat away from him and trying to smooth out her book, Margaret contemplated calling the number on a flyer she’d saw the other day advertising a job vacancy at a hair salon just down the street. “Vents,” she said back, sharper than intended. The thought was interrupted by a finger jabbing into her shoulder roughly and she looked up in a scowl, only further irritated by him smirking over his shoulder at her. “What?” She demanded, thinking of making a formal complaint.

George shook his finger at her (presumably the same one that’d jostled her) as if to chastise. When he saw she was still unamused he sneered, “you poked me first.”

Margaret tilted her head at the accusation and he scoffed. “I didn’t touch-”

“Whatever.”

Biting the inside of her cheek to hold back a sigh, Margaret glanced at the clock before turning back to her book. Uninterested by her lack of response, George got up and mulled around the room, disappearing behind the wall of bookcases; on the hunt for something to occupy himself. They still had a whole sixty minutes before the end of their shift.

But that couldn’t be right, she’d gotten through at least two pages since the last time she’d checked the time. She was sure of it. Looking back to the clock, Margaret stared at the fingers, letting out a long suffering breath when none moved. It was busted and there was no way to tell how long they’d really have to stay. Margaret reminded herself to prod her boss about replacing the batteries, and to wear a watch tomorrow.

A streak of blue in the corner of her eye made her jump, though she found nothing.

Margaret took off her glasses to rub at her eyelids. She was exhausted to the point of hallucinating. With Halloween a week away she was bound to become more paranoid, scary movies and urban legends resurfacing right on schedule just like they did every year.

The floor gave a groan.

She turned at the sound, and saw a man’s head sticking out from behind the racks, staring at her. Paying George's games of hide and seek little mind, Margaret looked back to her book, and freezes. For a moment she’s positive her heart stops.

That wasn’t George.

Her head span back to see the man had somehow moved two bookcases closer without making a sound. He’s still staring at her, and she notices the red eyes. The longer she watches him the more accustomed she gets to the shadows, and the faintest of smiles become visible. He’s taunting her. He didn’t care that he’d been spotted. He’d only stopped because he’d wanted to.

Yet something’s pulling her in, or keeping her in her seat. She can’t move.

The hair on the back of her neck stands up. Margaret can’t help but think he looks hungry, like he’s in pain and angry, like he’s going to take it out on her if she’s too slow in getting away.

She falls out her chair when a hand edges out on the opposite side of the hallway of bookcases, the nails scratching at the wood as it heaves whatever creature is attached to the other end. A head poked out from the side of the shelf. It’s hard to tell where the thing ends and the dark begins, the shape of the figure blends seamlessly with the gloom.

The sound of air squeezing through the vent can be heard, but Margaret was sure she’d saw the man’s lips move at the same time. It was them. Whatever they were, they were communicating.

The head snapped to her.

She only realises she’s screaming when George rushes to crouch in front her. “Hey, hey what’s up?!” He bursts, grabbing at her arms. Margaret shoves him out the way to gawp where the apparitions had been.

But they are gone.

“What’s going on?” George urged, still oblivious that they weren’t alone.

She had to get out.

“Move!” Pushing him away Margaret darted to the door behind her, not in the least guilty about using her co-worker as shark bait.

Her hand went to her pocket, coming up empty. Where were her keys?

There was that whistling again, the sound of the creatures communicating. There was no escape. They were going to get her. She was going to die.

Margaret hit her forehead against the door in frustration and desperation, pleading whoever was listening to have mercy.

A gust of wind makes her shiver, becoming fixed in place. George screamed and slammed himself backwards onto the door, though she didn’t dare look behind to see what at when she felt something breathing down her neck, lurking and prolonging the inevitable.

Margaret gasps at the arctic touch of something being slipped into her hand and spins as if to defend herself, coming nose to nose with what could have once been a person long ago. There was no comfort in those cold empty eyes, so close they consumed her vision, studying her with the intensity of a cruel child about to rip off a butterflies wing.

And yet the creature had given her the keys.

“… Run,” a disembodied voice commanded, barely above a whisper, and the eyes were gone before Margaret was sure they were really there. The only trace was the brief feeling of air passing over her lips and even that was fleeting. George began to whimper, watching something in the distance.

She didn’t need to be told twice, unlocking the door with great difficulty through trembling hands that threatened to drop her life line. Beside her George collapsed in a heap, and she knew solely by the scrabbling pitter-patter coming from above her that she’d be better off not knowing what was the cause. Hooking his shoulder, Margaret barged the door open and dragged him out the building. She kept her eyes shut.

///

Eda comes out of hiding and spots Jasper dropping from the ceiling. They’re silent until they meet each others eyes, and break into wheezing hysterics.

“Y’know ma’am, you’re really becoming a bad influence on me,” Jasper says once he can speak.

“Let me remind you this was your idea,” she manages.

“That’s not how I remember it.”

Eda shrugs at him, smirking as she thought about their reign of terror. “Yeah well you didn’t exactly tell me to stop.” She crossed the room, closing the door to the library before it could hit against the wall. “I can’t believe you locked the doors on them. Poor things,” she purred, not an ounce of sympathy in her voice.

They each set about finding something to read, roaming the library freely now the humans were gone. Eda picks up a book she had liked the look of earlier and made herself comfortable at one of the tables, stealing glances to watch Jasper through the gaps in the shelves. It was impossible to feel uneasy around Jasper, both because of his gift and because of her own secret reasons. As they say: absence made the heart grow fonder.

He glided through the racks, examining each of the spines. Eventually he finds a pile of legal documents and pamphlets with pictures he can identify as presidential propaganda trying to push candidates for the election happening in the coming months. He skims over them, uninterested with the bias tone, before a book on the floor caught his eye. Picking it up and flipping it to read the back, Jasper moseyed his way to Eda.

It lists a few events he’s aware of: the Great Depression and a stock market crash, a world war. There’s also things he hadn’t heard about like the NAACP and a man called Jim Crow. From the blurb he can interpret that the author had tried their best to be informative, gagged by a publisher though he could read between the lines. Deciding he should really educate himself about the modern world and concluding he would quiz Eda about anything that seemed to be purposefully swept over or simplified, Jasper sits opposite her, kicking the chair next to him so he can drape his arm across the back. Book in his other hand, he settled into a slouching position to learn what he had missed.

In an instant Eda found she couldn't keep her feelings contained as she wanted to with the empath in front of her. She’d been able to push them away before when there was something to focus on, but it was different now he was right there. This was closer than she had let herself get since the previous night; since she realised what she really felt.

But it was fine. Eda would be fine.

Turns out she wouldn’t be fine, because Jasper noticed he could still sense that feeling he’s been picking up on all day. And there’s no one else around… but Eda. He doesn’t look away from the novel in his hand, determined to be informed.

Hope was dangerous; hope made you want things. It couldn’t be coming from Eda. There had to be a rational explanation. “Have you read that before?” Jasper asks, keeping his face clear. Perhaps she just really liked that book, and that’s why she’d spent the last ten minutes staring at the same page.

She pretends to still be enthralled, realising how long she’d been re-reading the same paragraph and turning the page though she isn’t paying attention to the words anymore. “No, why do you ask?”

He plucks at the emotion like a bow string, testing its reality.

She feels it wrench, and her eyes widen at the unexpected strain and quick return of it snapping back into place. Jerking her head up to gawp at Jasper, she’s horrified to see he’s already squinting at her.

He’s sensed it and she knows it, so she panics.

Jasper stares after her as she abruptly stands and ghosts away to the shelves on the other side of the room, leaving him confused and worrying he’s misinterpreted the signs. He could survive Maria and her scouts, the death throes of the humans he fed on, the seemingly never ending misfiring of his head on its conditioned search for danger. But loosing Eda… he wasn’t sure he could survive that. Yet still he stayed where he was, hoping she would come back.

Needing time to process, Eda wondered through the hallways of books, putting her own back in its rightful spot and going in search of another. Trailing her hand over the spines, she picks one that appears new, but bringing it to her nose betrays the age and she smiles at the scent. Ancient. She slides down to sit next to one of the shelves, hiding from Jasper's sight though she can hear the turning of a page. It’s too regular, timed for every forty-five seconds exactly.

Jasper can sense her orbit shifting, twisting like a thick liquid mist. It wrapped and receded, choices and thoughts changing the path she wanted to take, how she wanted to respond. It’s repressed then brought forwards, cast away before being dragged close. She was a pressure cooker stuck in a paradox. There was a convulsing beat playing out in her head, taking shape but hectic, not quite keeping still long enough to become firm. And though it’s dizzying to swing with the pendulum of emotions, it’s mind boggling to feel the churning; Jasper can practically read the cogs trying to judge the outcomes of every solution before taking one. He could feel the eyes burning a hole in the side of his head as Eda considered what they were going to do now.

This affection was familiar enough, she’d felt it towards the world for centuries. But to apply it to a person, at such an intensity… that could take some getting used to. Eda decided that regardless if he knew what she felt and she knew that he knew that she knew, if Jasper wanted she’d leave their friendship as it was. She wouldn’t push anything, keeping in mind what he’d said about Maria and what he’d edited out. People had been forcing choices on Jasper for what sounded like eternity, and she wouldn’t be joining that list.

Nevertheless, as Eda peeked out from the edge of the bookcase, watching as he made a point of giving her space, she wanted to get closer. God she wanted Jasper. In some primal, wild way animals want each other, untamed and full of teeth; just the right amount of danger to be allowed her trust.

The blimp of desire comes as a surprise to Jasper though it’s nipped by her as briskly as it appears. He looks at Eda when he feels it, only for her to look away. Wanting her to come closer, to embrace what she was feeling, Jasper forced himself to turn back to his book in an effort to ignore what he’d caught.

That was what she was feeling the first time she took him hunting. She’d been craving alright but it wasn’t for blood. He’d been misreading her from the beginning, doubting not only himself but her, and to doubt Eda was to risk everything.

“If you want me, come get me,” he whispered only to himself, but he didn’t realize the dust beside Eda could hear too.

She paused at his low rumpling, arching an eyebrow. Flirting with humans was easy, but to do so with someone she actually cared about; that was only as difficult as she made it. She didn’t need to be an empath to know the exact moment her feelings solidify: signalling a conclusion to her debating. “Want you in which way cowboy? Don’t get me wrong, both involve ropes, but it’s an important distinction to make before we proceed.”

He couldn’t believe it. “Oh darlin...” Was he dead? “Whichever way you’d like.”

She broke out in a grin, spotting the genuine interest behind what she’d been reading as jokes. Popping her head out from behind the bookshelf and giving him a quizzical look, she came to terms with the reality that this could actually be happening. "Are you flirting with me?"

Jasper laughs as the emotions bloom into colour with her realisation that maybe he felt the same. "What if I am?"

And what was there to say about that? “You couldn’t handle me,” she told him with a quiet coyness.

“Are you turnin’ me down?”

“Just because I’m being civil with you doesn’t mean I like you.” She stands and slowly makes her way over, a plan in mind to be just a little devious.

“Who’re you tryna convince? We’re friends.” Friends who wanted to kiss each other, but what else was new?

Jasper expects her to sit back on the opposite side of the table, but instead she sits in the chair beside him, grinning into her book. She bit her lip to keep from laughing when he stared slack jawed at her as she leaned back against his arm. Taking Eda up on her challenge, Jasper gripped her chair and yanked her to him, making her sway with the momentum and rest her shoulder against his ribs.

Whatever her soul was made of, his was the same. They weren’t content to just be friends who wanted to kiss each other, but it was enough to have this mutual understanding that they were more than what they were saying; the unspoken agreement that something had changed.

She plucked a book from his jacket and held it in the air in front of them. “Jasper...” Eda said disapprovingly, clicking her tongue and shaking her head. “You can’t steal from a library.”

“You put that in my pocket.”

She shrugged, patting the book affectionately. “Well now I _have_ to keep it.”

“We could just put it back...” He smiled, knowing she wouldn’t.

“No I’ll keep hold of it.”

“As you do.”

“For safe keepings.”

“Of course… Hoarder.”

“Oi!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Completely unrelated to the story) I have come to the conclusion that Jasper is a bottom. I know- how can I say something so brave and so controversial, but just hold it. Out of Alice and Jasper, I think we can all agree Alice tops. And between him and Maria (though fucked up and toxic and very very yucky), I’m guessing it was the same outcome- that or she made him top. On the other hand, he could also be a ruthless service top. With that in mind, I propose the idea that Jasper, that funky cowboy, likes his women just a lil spicy.
> 
> In this essay I will


	24. In The Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the release of Midnight Sun I just want to say that my portrayal of all canon characters are based off the original 4 books, the movies and my want to have a good time. I have only read the parts where Jasper is involved (on the pdf) and likely will not be reading any more because I refuse to give that shit for brains dirt bag (Steph) a single pound (and also because wow that Eggward boi is a massive emo)- so any inconsistencies or differences between MS and this, you about to take one hell of an L my dudes because it izz what it izz

After weeks of walking as a pair and presumably longer before meeting Eda, there had been a casualty.

They had been doing their usual strolling through the remarkably colourful cities somewhere in the West of Montana, when Jasper had stepped into a puddle left behind by the rain that had fallen through the night and paused. He’d lifted his leg to look at the bottom of his shoe, letting out a small sad groan at what he found. Leaning closer to see what he was pouting at, Eda saw a hole near the heel. “Aw no,” she mumbled, stricken by the loss and already in mourning for their fallen comrade.

“I liked these...” Jasper muttered quietly, equally devastated. It had been a well made shoe and the design had been antique. They would be sorely missed by both vampires; broken but never forgotten. “I don’t know where we’d find a cobbler, I haven’t seen any for miles.”

“We could always get you another pair? I’m sure I saw some in a shop window a couple streets ago.” Eda saw the smile he gave her, and knew she was on the right path, turning them around and heading back the way they came.

It didn’t take long to locate the store (one of the perks of vampire memory), and a tinkering bell above the door signalled their entrance. It’s surprisingly dynamic inside, and Eda jumps at the chance to explore the funky little shop, finding it sells everything from make-up to old copies of even older paintings, and what looked suspiciously like voodoo dolls. Eda couldn't tell what colour the interior was for the racks of bright dresses of all types pined on hangers along any section of wall that wasn’t already occupied; double stacked to save space. Most importantly it also had a shelf of the cowboy boots they were searching for. It was an added bonus that there were only three customers inside, meaning Jasper could breathe lightly as long as they kept their distance, which they thankfully did.

Unable to stop the urge, Eda ran off to grab one of the dolls, heading next for the jumble of boots. “Come on cowboy, let’s get you some shoes.” He didn’t have to think twice about following her. It was a crying shame they didn't find any spurs.

///

Jasper was taking eternity, currently comparing two pairs, one in each hand. While the boots did look almost identical to Eda, she could understand the minute contrasts. She had learned that while Jasper didn’t care very much about what he wore, he cared an awful lot about how he wore it. Undoubtedly if he had access to one he’d probably iron everything he owned. He made sure every button was polished, that there was never a wrinkle in his shirts, and his soon to be disposed of pair of shoes had been in otherwise immaculate condition apart from the unavoidable scuffing around the edges.

She considered it a funny little quirk, though she wouldn’t state any of this out loud. Eda remembers her first few years out of the wars and understood that those choices mattered, tiny reminders that they were free to have that choice and for it to have consequences; even seemingly insignificant ones like having a say in what you wore. So she sits on the tattered sofa in front of the changing rooms and pretends to read a magazine while she waits, glancing up at him every now and then to check the mortals didn’t wonder too close. She had been so busy watching Jasper that she almost didn’t notice the sound of the bell above the door as it opened, and turned at the familiar scent of vampire carried on the wind.

“Alice,” Eda breathed as the girl bounced onto the cushion on her right, immediately crushing Eda with a hug. She laughed, dropping the magazine in favour of wrapping her arms around Alice. “It’s good to see you.” It was easier than their last hug, expected, and despite not having known her for very long at all, Eda couldn’t help but feel she was embracing an old friend. She wanted to thank Alice for leading her to Jasper, though now didn’t seem the time– especially when she couldn’t see where he was to check he wasn’t listening. What did give her pause was the sound of growling (too quiet for the humans to pick up on), making her look behind Alice to see Jasper inching closer and the boots he’d been holding abandoned on the floor. He was so tense, his face screwed up. He had that unhinged look in his eye, the same one Eda had seen when they’d first met and again when they’d been ambushed.

He wasn’t sure what to make of Alice. She was unlike anything he’d ever encountered. Smothering Eda, burrowing her head into her neck, yet too small to be of any real threat in Jasper’s mind.

“I told you you’d like hugs!” Alice called out, muffled against Eda’s shoulder, and she tightened her hold around the girl. Alice squeaked happily in response, either not caring or unaware of the reason. The movement of Eda’s arms seemed to snap him out of what he was thinking, lifting his eyes to Eda and relaxing slightly when he saw her frown. “Jasper!” Alice beckoned, releasing Eda in favour of springing out of her seat to greet him.

At his name he walked forwards, that same look on his face, coming to stand a little closer than normal beside Eda. “Jas,” Eda said, getting his attention and raising her eyebrows at him. “This is Alice,” she hinted.

Like someone had plugged him in, Jasper came to life, turning to Alice and remembering to be polite, putting out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Silky as can be, his voice betrayed none of the tension lurking in his shoulders.

Luckily Alice seemed to have enough sense not to try and hug him, and shook the offered hand. While Eda had managed to tolerate the determined embraces, it was doubtful Jasper would react so placidly. Lord only knows what he'd do if she leapt at him. “Kept me waiting long enough.”

If Eda’s orbit sparkled, Alice’s was like staring into a light bulb: painfully bright, but there were detectable flickers. Forced optimism then, he gathered, instantly suspicious. He didn’t much appreciate the bossy tone either. What did Alice know? Or alternatively, what didn’t Alice know? “I’m sorry ma’am, I didn’t realise we were on a schedule,” he replied with an almost undetectable edge, still wanting to make a good impression on Eda's friend.

"Well you are." She turned to Eda with a smirk, and before Alice even speaks Eda knows she’s in for it. “First we need to replace that monstrosity,” she pointed at the case at Eda’s feet.

In return she arched an eyebrow, not taking the critique personally, knowing it was indeed on its last legs. “What’s wrong with my bag?”

“It’s a choice.”

“Yes?… Is it not meant to be a choice?” Alice just narrowed her eyes at her before leaning down to grab her hand, giving a slight tug.

Sharing a glance with Jasper she held back a sigh, standing and letting Alice pull her towards the racks. Jasper was only too happy to replace her on the sofa, opting to stay out of whatever the pixie had in mind, picking up the discarded magazine to continue where she’d left off.

///

Having someone shop for her had been an unfamiliar but no less amusing experience. Eda didn’t mind shopping as much as some and Alice seemed to live for fashion, gleefully abiding by the latest and upcoming mortal trends as if she'd written them herself.

Having allowed herself to be shooed into the changing rooms, Eda had initially wrinkled her nose at the scent of old socks and bitter dollar store aftershave, although found the room looked surprisingly clean. Standing in front of the mirror with her hands on her hips, Eda was admiring the way Alice had dressed her. Like everything else the girl did it was quite unusual to Eda.

She'd seen the style on humans and in the magazine, but on herself: very strange. “Pants...” she spat, examining the wide-legged navy trousers in the mirror, bending her knee to feel the pull of the fabric as it stretched. When she had spent the weekend with Suffragettes this wasn’t what she had been envisioning. Between the swimsuits and now this, what would be the next to go? In twenty years would she be expected to walk the streets in nothing more than her gloves or a jesters hat? She turned and stopped, looking over her shoulder at herself. On second thought she could get into the habit of wearing trousers. “Pants...” she muttered with a little more respect. Maybe the mortals were onto something here.

She couldn’t help but wonder about the long sleeves of the blouse though. Were they simply a fashion choice or could Alice no longer bare to witness the skin beneath? The girl didn’t seem in the least bothered about the remaining scars on show, so Eda concluded it was just her tastes and shook those thoughts away.

“Are you decent?” Alice's high voice called from the other side of the curtain that separated her and the rest of the store. 

“Depends who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.”

“Ahh…” she trailed off, tittering to herself when she heard a huff.

“Oh for heavens sake.” 

Growing impatient, Alice ripped the curtain open. “Please, come right in.” And she did; hopped into the cubical like she owned it. The space was not built for two people, and even a microscopic addition like Alice quickly made the area crowded. “Y’know we’ve _got_ to stop meeting like this,” Eda said, closing the curtain and turning, side stepping to make room though there was nowhere to go. In the end she settled for watching their reflections, speculating that Alice had not joined the club for affectionate chit-chat but enjoying it while it lasted.

“I need to know that you aren’t doing this weird flirting thing without actually being aware that you’re doing it.”

“If you’d said this to me when we first met I might have taken you up on that-”

“Je-sus…” Alice groaned.

“One of these days you’re going to have to start making sense, I can't make heads or tails of these mixed signals.” Locking eyes with Alice on the glass not a tick too late to see hers roll, Eda pursed her lips to kiss the air. "Tell me Pythia, what are we?"

“Well _you’re_ an idiot.”

She didn't seem to appreciate the grin Eda sent her. “Maybe if you weren’t such a troublesome goddamn elbow-”

“You're in love!”

“I’m aware," Eda purred, winking in a last ditch effort to avoid the conversation brewing.

“Why don’t you just confess already?”

“Because he’d brag about me being the first one to confess for the rest of our lives.” She knew that wasn't the truth, that Jasper wasn't the type to brag and even if he was it wouldn't stop her.

“You’ll be lonely all your life and so will he. Neither of you deserve it, and I don’t either.” Eda shot her a glance that simply read: _stay out of it_. “Why aren’t you two together yet?”

She sighed deeply, giving up on distraction. “… I’d destroy him.” 

“He’d be into that,” Alice informed, smiling.

Looking over the girl again, Eda couldn't help softening up. “This changing room isn’t nearly big enough for the both of us.”

“And yet you’re still here,” she gushed.

“Haven’t much of a choice, have I?” Though if Eda’s honest with herself she had no urge to bolt away from the girl: to know Alice was to adore her. “You’re quite magical y’know.”

“I know,” she chirped, looking pleased with herself. “I told you we’d be best friends.”

“… I haven’t had a best friend for a while,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes strictly to her own reflection, uncertain if what she was saying was a warning or not. “There's chances I won't be much good."

“Well you better get used to it. I don’t see very many futures where we aren’t friends.” Alice's expression went blank momentarily, and came out of it giggling.

Shaking her head at the bizarre behaviour, Eda turned to face the real Alice. “Where have you been anyway?”

“With the Cullen’s. Everything goes soother if they meet me first.” Nodding along with the conversation like it was totally normal to discuss things that hadn't yet occurred, Eda peered down when her hands slipped into- pockets! This was splendid! Pants were a magnificent brain-wave on the mortals behalf. “… And decorating your bedroom,” she added quickly, seeing her attention was diverted.

Eda narrowed her eyes. “Bedroom? What do I need a...” Alice just bit her lip and wiggled her eyebrows. “You pervert!” Something about Alice just got under her skin in exactly the right way. She could get used to this. “I’ve got to hand it to you, you certainly know how to make a statement,” Eda told her, gesturing to herself.

“You’re so _cute_ ,” Alice squealed, stepping forwards (too close) and reaching both her hands up (too close) to hold the sides of Eda’s face like a squishy animal (too close). The touch only lasted less than a millisecond, but those little hands might as well been hot stoves.

Involuntary throwing back her head, Eda took a stride away, tensing further when she bumped into a wall.

The last time someone had gotten so close to her mouth she’d bitten them. That couldn’t happen to Alice, not here, not when they’d just gotten somewhere close to friendship. She couldn’t allow that to happen.

She had truly been a fool to think her aversion to proximity with her own kind would simply vanish just because of a boy. Things didn’t work like that. Jasper was just one person, a pinprick in Eda’s life. He couldn’t erase centuries of damage. Mortals were safer. Mortals posed no risk. They never fought back in a way that mattered. “I’m s-.” Eda didn’t hear her, too busy glaring at her own reflection, forcibly pulling her lips back over her fangs. How was she still acting like this? “Forg-” At the angle she was stood Eda could see one half of the brand on the back of her neck. Could Alice see? “Eda-” Did Alice know?

Eda turned her head to look at her (really look at her) and Alice jerked back at the intensity.

At last a normal reaction. She was alive after all.

Their meeting had taken Eda by surprise, and in the mix hadn’t the chance to size the girl up. But now it seemed was the time to decide: friend or foe? If Alice was as omniscient as she seemed would she know (for example) if Eda planed to snatch her head in a twisted mimicry of what she’d done to her, and squeeze? Not enough to cause permanent disfigurement… just enough to hurt; to warn not to do it again.

Eda watched as Alice’s eyes glazed over, saw how she bent her knees slightly to prepare for an attack.

 _How intriguing_ , she thought. Friends it would be then.

Alice blinked once, and her eyes became focused on Eda’s face.

There were times when being nice was a struggle for Eda, but fuck did she try. Quiet kindness was the most powerful, most sweetest form of rebellion in a compassionless world. Eda had learnt that kindness was not weakness, because even someone as skippy as Alice had their limits. No one was kind because it was easy. 

Coming back to the present, Eda shook her head at the apologies now that she was starting to remember hearing them; didn’t want the pity or the sympathetic tone. "If you really want to be friends, I'd advise you not to do that again."

"You won't hurt me, if that's what you're worried about," Alice said in a very quiet voice, listening closely but distinctly unafraid. So strange.

"So how does it work?” She asked, not allowing herself to hiss, managing to sound jolly as if nothing had even happened. “The visions.” Why did she keep touching her like she knew her, like they had known each other since the birth of the universe? Why did she care? Why wasn’t this tiny woman deterred by Eda and her scars? “Why did you call me your sister?" What did Alice know?

“I’ve known you since I woke up.”

“God forbid someone other than you understands what the fuck you’re talking about,” Eda supposed, shrugging and kitting her voice with curiosity instead of frustration.

“I see flashes of what will happen... choices, possibilities,” Alice explained, ignoring the thinly veiled aggression and adopting an unexpectedly gentle tone. "The more certain a persons choice the clearer the visions."

“Is that what I am, a possibility?” She probed, thinking over what that meant. So it seemed the physic was not omniscient in the traditional sense, but perhaps in another. The visions sounded like they revealed the future (both distant and present), shades of reality and threads of truth. If they were firm or shifted with how they were acted upon Eda didn't know, though as everything foretold to her so far had come to fruition, it was clear to go against Alice would be unwise.

“No, I decided on you a long time ago.”

“Ooooooo...” Eda raised an eyebrow, downplaying how much she was actually taking in. “You did seem pretty set when you met me.”

“I’ve been seeing my family for as long as I can remember. They’re my first memories. Hopefully they’ll be my last.” Eda didn’t comment on how ominous that sounded, simply sharing a glance with her own reflection as if it would give a sensible answer. “I don’t remember my human life either.”

That caught her attention.

Quick as a whip, Eda turned back to Alice, unable to help taking a step towards the girl. “...You’re like me...”

“Yes.”

It was brazenly obvious to Eda that Alice had lived a life of relative safety, one without extensive suffering. She couldn’t understand what war was like, why you couldn’t move so quickly around someone like Eda. “Why don’t you remember?” But maybe she could understand in others.

“Why don’t _you_ remember?”

Oh yes, Alice could certainly understand some parts. “Fair point,” Eda noted, a real smile taking shape.

“What does it feel like?” Alice whispered, crossing her arms as the air began to cool again and the tension melted. “To meet your mate?”

Her eyes bulged, and this time she did hiss, “watch your tongue pixie or you might lose it.” Mate seemed like an awfully strong word. They hadn't even spoken about what was going on between them. All the mutual understanding, coded conversation and subtext in the world could only go so far; landed them in the purgatory of maybes and almosts. 

“Take Jasper’s first then we’ll talk.”

Snorting at the bluntness of her dare, Eda concentrated on putting things in a manner she thought Alice would understand. “It’s like...” Though how could she describe it? Was this how Jasper had felt when he’d told her how he experienced hope? "I suppose..." Time could pass quickly for immortals when they were happy, and for Eda it was the same. The years passed like minutes as the world both grew and shrunk around her. Sail boats had given way to steam ships, horse drawn carriages to auto-mobiles. All things changed with exception to her, or so she’d thought. “... When I’m around him, it's like I can breathe.”

“Stop being such a prude and _tell me_.”

Eda decided to give the pixie exactly what she was digging for, to do away with sentimental poetry. “I want to sin every time I see him.”

“You’re religious?”

“No, but that makes it even better.” Chuckling to herself, Eda watched as Alice was overcome by giggles, feeling as if this moment had already occurred; recalling the last time she had made such a small vampire laugh. Maybe a best friend wouldn’t be such an harrowing idea. She could do that. No one could ever replace Sara, but she would want her to be happy; because Eda deserved happiness. She’d been told as much anyway.

A sense of dread dawned on Eda, remembering Jasper had sat mere feet away. Had he heard? Turning, she pushed the curtain aside slightly. The sofa was empty.

“He went outside,” Alice choked, wiping an imaginary tear, evidently not in the least fazed. "A human sat next to him."

Was that all it had taken? Then again, Eda thought back to how long it had took to learn to bare her thirst. It was an improvement that he'd removed himself rather than risk an incident, but would it be years as it had been for Eda to learn restraint? "Will he get better, with his thirst?"

"My power doesn't work that way." Of course, it wasn't as simple as just choosing not to eat humans. "But I don't think he will any time soon."

It was unfortunate that he would have to struggle as she had, but it seemed that was the hand he'd been dealt. "How is he, Carlisle?" Eda asked under her breath, and Alice looked at her in question. 

"Doesn't he send you letters?"

"I haven't seen the man in a hundred and ninety eight years... It's not the same." He could have grown several inches in that time, or taken to wearing a wig, or at the very least stopped lugging around that damn cross of his fathers.

"Why so long?"

"Years just passed and, it just... got harder and harder. Then he turned Edward and Esme, and the rest of his children..." What would they make of her? It would be horrendous if they didn't like her. "...He built a family." It was better to leave their alliance on good terms than sour it with an unnecessary visit, to out stay her welcome in their home.

"You're a part of his family."

Not yet she wasn't. Not anymore. Eda sighed, staring out to the store to avoid the girls eyes. "Does he know I'm coming?" There had been a time when they had considered each other a family of sorts, however it was unlikely that sentiment lingered for Carlisle so long without seeing her. She could have become an acquaintance after so many years. Imagine that, a stranger to her friend.

"He does."

"Did he..." What was she even expecting from asking? "What did he say?" 

"That he misses you, and he's looking forward to seeing you again." Nodding, Eda resigned herself to the knowledge that there seemingly no hard feelings about her absence. "We'd better get going if we want to stay on track." And with that Alice danced out of the cubical, leaving Eda to mull over their conversation. She would have to write to Carlisle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Alice, but the last time I said that about a character they died so y'all better watch out.  
> Also I find it so fucking funny how Eda freaks to (1940's) modern clothes like ma'am quit bugging out (but at the same time I think that's how someone like Eda would react after wearing only dresses for so many years)


	25. The Part Where I Kill Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot describe how these fuckwitts sit so here’s a visual aid to my wack description  
> https://www.google.co.uk/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fstock.adobe.com%2Fimages%2Fmeeting-in-the-park-romantic-couple-sitting-under-the-tree-in-the-park-love-dating-romance%2F246390195&psig=AOvVaw176fzhfN4msBo8nMcWVkSU&ust=1597406220844000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCLi06KSQmOsCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAT - pose

Alice had attempted to trade her trunk with a sleek businessman’s suitcase. She could handle trousers but that was where she drew the line. Reasoning with the pixie had been an uphill battle, and she had eventually surrendered this one accessory, _allowing_ Eda to pick out a case similar to her old one: bound in pale brown leather and metal buckles. In response Alice had rolled her eyes and called it _rustic_ (whatever that meant) but hadn’t argued any further. The cheek of the girl, how she found it endearing was beyond even Eda herself.

After a night of trying to beat Alice in verbal noughts and crosses (a valiant yet fruitless exploration) the trio had split. Apparently Alice had rushed straight from the Cullen’s to them, for what reason she wouldn’t disclose, and needed to hunt. Jasper had joined her, not wanting to risk it, and Eda hoped their new travelling companion would return unscathed.

Bundled on a slant, Eda sat leaning on an old tree in the middle of the forest, passing the first private morning in almost a month attending the sunrise. Not a single one had passed since winning her freedom where she had not become still to watch the start of a new day. Each was a beginning and a continuation, never the same as the previous. Time never stopped though occasionally, in moments like these, it lazed to a near halt. When the red leaked through the clouds like lava through rocks and grew paler the closer it got to the horizon, meeting its end as a stripe of yellow behind bald trees; and the sky echoed an ocean or burning desert.  
  
Tinted orange by the light, Eda had the book she’d taken from the library in her lap, inspecting the small cluster of feathers she’d gathered. She’d secured them within the crease of her book, having picked them up while waiting for her friends return.

In spite of the charming scenery, Eda was itching the four scratches on the back of her neck. Maintaining personal boundaries was one thing. The moment of malicious intrusive thought which had occurred the day before had been another. The more she thought about what had happened the more it appalled her.

With a heavy sigh Eda dropped her hand and pushed the thought away, beginning to brush out the matted ends of her feathers. She would have to apologise: her behaviour had been simply unacceptable.

Absent mindedly curling her toes into the fading grass, she wondered when snow would arrive, when greens would surrender to blues and whites. At the thought of sledding with Alice, the speed that girl would pick up on a steep peak, she let out a laugh. Maybe she’d be able to finally participate in a snowball fight this year. That didn’t sound too far fetched…

She hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to Jasper much since the arrival of Alice, for who needed the birds when you had a pixie twittering about the past few weeks she’d spent with the Cullen's, and what a wonderful life lay ahead of them if/when they joined the family. It sounded like she was trying to recruit them into a cult, a world of difference from their comfortable silences and quiet conversations. Despite how extraordinarily peppy Alice was, Eda had grown to like the hyperactivity. Jasper had seemingly gone mute, following the women’s conversations with his eyes, enjoying the buzz he was getting from them. Making friends in his own way, Eda guessed.

Speak of the devil, she’s brought back to reality by the sound of someone coming to stand behind her, and only had to listen to the rhythm to know it was Jasper.

“Morning cowboy,” she called, not looking up, merely beaming at her feathers.

“Mornin’ darlin,” he greeted quietly, leaning closer and knocking her slightly with his leg. “Don’t you clean up real nice.”

“Well you make me as happy as a dead pig in mud…?” She recited slowly, not sure exactly what she was saying and taking a swipe (more of a wave) at his calf. Being from Mississippi, Alice had picked up a small amount of Southern slang and had secretly been teaching her a couple helpful phrases.

Whatever it meant it made him chuckle and that was good enough for her. Jasper sat behind her, bringing his legs to his chest, and testing to see exactly how much Alice had taught her said, “bless your heart.”

Eda didn’t need to hear it from Alice to recognise the sarcasm. “I won’t tolerate bullying. I learn how to speak a little yeehaw and this is the reception I get.” Shooting a weak glare over her shoulder at him, she shakes her head fondly at the sight of him biting the inside of his cheek in an effort to contain his smiling.

Jasper hadn’t been spared from a wardrobe change, however hadn’t been _allowed_ to change until after he’d been hunting. Eda was silently relived he’d argued against the suit Alice tried giving him, much preferring the soft looking grey jumper.

Holding out his fist to her, Eda cupped her hand under it as he opened his, revealing a little puff of yellow- a feather. If Eda gasped that was between her and Jasper.

He often reminded her of a cat, bringing home trinkets he’d found that he thought she might like. Eda supposed she should be grateful he only ever brought her nice things; things she did in fact like. “You know you don’t have to bring me things all the time,” she said gently, beaming at him in thanks. If he hadn’t just physically handed it to her Eda wouldn’t have believed he’d touched it at all; the immaculate condition spoke volumes of the custody he’d kept it in.

“But I want to.” In all honestly Jasper couldn’t tell the difference between the bits of fluff; couldn’t understand what made these so special compared to the others they’d seen on their way. Regardless, that didn’t stop him from watching as her eyes springed between her feathers on their mission to explore.  
  
She was overcome with the sweetness of it all, busying herself by examining the new feather in greater detail than necessary, running her nail down the middle. “Cowboy you might just be the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met.”

“Might?” He repeated, replacing his hands on his knees. “Is there someone else?”

“Oh hush,” she waved him off, though as she looked the feather over Eda noticed Alice hadn’t returned. “How did it go?” She asked, keeping the worry out her voice.  
  
Jasper told her about how they’d come close to crossing paths with a pair of hikers, how Alice had done nothing except fuss, saying things like: _it’s better if you think of them as people_. As if he didn’t know. As if he couldn’t feel clattering of their emotions, hear the beating of their hearts, see the veins in their necks, or smell their blood- just _begging_ to be devoured (though he didn’t inform her of how close he’d been to slipping). Alice had told him all about the lives the humans would live, trying to get him to empathise with them; like he’d wanted to kill them. Apparently Lauren and Jessica were buying a house together in the spring, and would have a dog called Mike by the following summer. Alice been so occupied mollycoddling him she’d forgotten to feed herself, hence her absence.

“She hunts with her eyes shut, ain’t something you see everyday.” It had been a little disturbing to watch Alice stand unmoving, her eyes moving rapidly behind her lids, striking with perfect aim. Never once had she needed to actually see to kill her target. “…I wanted to talk to you about somethin’ actually,” he confessed faintly.

Closing the book to keep her feathers for later and putting the novel on the ground, Eda turned her gaze to his face, giving Jasper her full attention. “I’m no priest but I’ll listen.”

He took a breath, and began, “our kind can’t form families, so what exactly are we walkin’ into?”

Sighing, Eda glanced to the sunrise, taking a moment to mull over her answer, just as uncertain as him. “Carlisle believes vampires can form bonds similar to mortals, found family he calls it.” She chose not to say she shared Jasper's beliefs about their kind being unable to build families in the humans image. “I’ll admit it confused me when he started turning mortals, saying they were a family, not a coven... He thinks it’s something to do with the animal blood. I’m not so sure.” Vampires were not mortals, no matter how strong Carlisle’s need to pantomime as them stood. Her own years playing pretend had long passed, and even then hadn’t held the same commitment, never going to school town after town like the Cullen children.

Jasper hadn’t been successful enough at the diet to notice any change in his behaviour which couldn’t also be attributed to Eda, so pursed his lips. “What need is there to have such a large coven where there is no battle for territory in Forks, or even anywhere near by?”

“They came together for all sorts of reasons.” _Mainly loneliness_ , Eda mentally added, monitoring the frown building on his face. “Carlisle turned Edward because he wanted a friend, though in time he became like a son. Esme because he fell in love. Rose he turned because he thought she could be a good mate for Edward- disastrous decision really, I don’t know what he was thinking.” The letters they’d traded during those first two years of Rosalie's life had been passive aggressive to say the least; berating Carlisle for his lack of consideration to how Rosalie would handle having not only immortality but a potential mate thrust upon her. Idiot. “Emmett was a mortal Rose found on the brink of death, classic love at first sight. Carlisle turned him for her.” Things had been easier since Emmett joined the coven. Conflict never survived long around Emmett, too eager to have fun to really hold a grudge.

“Carlisle bit them all?” She nodded, and he considered the implications. For Jasper, there would be no limit to who or what he would destroy for Eda; not that she wants him destroying anything. However he did not yearn for battle as he once had, nowadays it was a necessary evil rather than a profession. He would not shy away from violence. Nevertheless he wouldn't seek it out either. “It sounds like an army, and I tire of fighting.” What use was it to leave one army to join another?

“No one will ask you to fight, least of all me,” Eda noted, tentatively putting her hand on his arm.

Holding her hand to him, Jasper lowered his eyes to the ground, plucking at the grass. “It always ends in a fight.”

“The Cullen's aren’t an army. They’re free to come and go as they please. Nothing keeps them there but themselves.”

“… So they’re free, and they know they’re free?” Jasper asked, thinking about the only other coven so large: the Volturi. The guard and the wives were trapped within their clan by Chelsea and her gift to influence emotional ties between individuals. Would it be possible the Cullen’s had a member with a similar ability?

“Yes. Carlisle despises violence. He won’t keep us against our will. We’ll be free to leave,” she told him gently, hoping it wouldn’t come to that. “I trust Alice.” It was the least she could do after how she’d acted. “A bit peculiar, but she’s my friend. I think she really does believe we’ll be happy with the Cullen’s.” With a set mind, Eda delivered an ultimatum. “I’m following her, if you join that’s your choice.”

Even if they called themselves a family, acted as a family and were truly bonded like a family, it triggered alarm bells in Jasper's mind about the too big coincidence that Alice, Eda and himself were all gifted. He couldn’t help being pessimistic, wary that they were being collected. “I’ll follow you.” Never could he be called superstitious, but he was without a doubt a little ‘stitious. “I see why you like her, very… bouncy.”

“Isn’t she great!” She rejoiced, not bothering to keep her giddiness concerning Alice hidden.

He hummed in agreement. “Tell me about your feathers,” Jasper breathed, aware Eda knew as much as he did about why a vampire would make a family. They’d likely go round in circles all day, and by sunset would have nothing to show apart from questions without answers.  
  
She grinned, and Jasper watched as Eda went to work passionately studying her assortment, taking back her hand from under his. Opening her book on her leg, she separated them into an order which made sense to her rather than size or colour. If anyone knew what awaited them at the Cullen’s it’d be Alice, and she wasn’t here- and to Jasper everything she’d told them already sounded too good to be true. So instead he got comfortable, listening attentively to Eda’s exhibition.

“This could have been a pheasant or a hawk,” she stated, holding up the largest: a striped red and brown tail feather. “I’m going with pheasant.”  
  
Jasper nodded, tapping the page beside a midnight black quill. “And this one?”  
  
“This one’s a crows, about this big,” she said, gesturing animatedly with her hands. “It's from it's left wing, second to the tip.”  
  
“How do you know?”  
  
“I saw it,” she burst, and Jasper laughed as her eyes widened in sync with the rise in excitement. “It came right up to me and started preening like I wasn’t even here!”  
  
“Wish I could’ve seen it,” he whispered, genuinely wanting to witness what had made her so happy.  
  
Next she held up the yellow tuft he'd brought, looking over it again to check her assessment. “And this is from a male Goldfinch. I’m surprised you found it, they should have migrated by now and this smells pretty fresh.” Then again it had been warmer these passed few days, Eda thought, it might have decided to stay a little longer to enjoy the climate.

They continued like that until Eda had told him about each of her specimens, Jasper heeding every word and asking questions as she went. Things had descended into all out poking war when she’d showed him a single dark grey feather. Eda was convinced it was from a mourning dove. Jasper disagreed, saying it was just a humble pigeon. There was a moment where she told him they were just the same bird in different colours, but he wasn’t buying it and stayed stubborn. When the presentation was over they sat in easy silence, admiring the last of the sunrise with smiles on their faces.  
  
Unable to bare being so far away from him any longer, she turned slightly, letting herself lean backwards into his side. She gave a yelp however, when she continued to fall much more than she’d intended.

Unknown to Eda, he’d straightened the leg closest to her the same time she’d leaned back; meaning she’d landed in his lap with her head propped up on his still bent knee.

They stared at each other for a second; Eda managing to keep the mask of calm (like everything was going as planned), Jasper biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smirking too much and giving away just how pleasantly surprised he was at this turn of events.

Jasper was the first to speak, as always appearing utterly at ease. "Are you incapable of leanin’ on your own dinner?”

And (so used to annoying Alice) her response slipped out before she was even sure she was saying it. "I _am_ leaning on my own dinner."

Jasper made a choking sound, and what she wouldn't give to be swallowed by ground as he cackled – remarkably loud – at the flush of embarrassment.

Still, she couldn’t bring herself to move beyond covering her face with her hand. “I’m sorry... At least you’re comfy,” she giggled, shrugging as best she could. Though she’d like nothing more than to climb that man like a tree, it wouldn’t be very polite to say so. Pausing as a thought occurred to her, Eda tilted her head at him. “How did you know I was collecting feathers?”

“’Cause you’re a hoarder ma’am,” he laughed as she rolled her eyes. What Jasper wasn’t spilling was that the feather had reminded him of Eda, and just knew she’d love it.

“Go ahead, rip my heart out,” she groaned, unable to argue.

There had been something off about Eda’s orbit all night, just a shade wrong. Even now, with a smile on her face, the picture of tranquillity, a weight was scratching away at the glitter. "… Are you alright darlin?" He asked.

"I'm grand." Eda hoped it sounded more convincing to Jasper’s ears than it did to her own. “Really.”

Narrowing his eyes a little at the obvious white lie, Jasper rested his hand on her shoulder, careful not to allow his elbow to sit on her middle. “Yknow, you can tell me anythin’ and I’ll listen.”

Eda didn’t doubt it, and resisted playing a game of seeing how long she could talk about the intricacies of twine before he snapped at her- an endless exercise because realistically she knew he never would. “… I almost bit Alice,” she mumbled, picking at the beads of fuzz that had gathered on his sleeve. The jumper was indeed as soft as it looked.

Instantly Jasper's smile was gone. “What did she do?” He rumbled, ready to hunt the pixie.

“No, no, nothing like that,” she laughed under her breath, and he relaxed slightly again. “Yesterday she, um… She did this.” Eda put her free hand to her cheek like Alice had. "I don't… I get nervous, when people get too close," she elaborated further, seeing he was growing more confused by the second.

Jasper shot a glance at her other hand still fiddling with his sleeve, tilting his head at her when he didn’t sense any of the discomfort she spoke of. "Am I not people…?" He joked quietly, both understanding perfectly and not at the same time, seeing a direct contradiction right under his nose in how she’d stayed in his lap.

Eda lowered her eyes to the sleeve in question. "… It's different with you.” Jasper was people, and yet the rule didn't apply to him. With most people their hands lingered unnecessarily, made her want to claw her own skin off, feeling as if it crawled over her bones. She could draw parallels to that feeling when a bug lands on your face, that split second of panic and need to get it off. With Jasper it was the opposite. His touch never once felt invasive. There no rush to push him away. She had even initiated a little more than half of them. After taking a moment to chew over the situation she’d found herself, she came to the realisation that there was no where else she’d rather be. “You're my person,” Eda whispered.

He didn't have to think twice about returning the sentiment. “You're my person too.” They were each others safe haven.

“I'm sorry I keep doing this to you.” Truly she was.

“You're not that heavy.”

The corner of her mouth twitched, though she kept it in. “No, I mean that.” Just like he had at the river, and again after they’d been ambushed. Surely he had to be getting sick of being her echo chamber. “You always find a way to make me smile. It can’t be easy for you to be around someone like me.” Someone who grieved for memories she didn’t have, who some days sank too deep into their own minds. Someone who often forgot they had been a human at some point.

He could sense the self loathing and wholeheartedly disagreed. “It doesn’t bother me in the way you’re thinking, not if it’s you.”

"Would you tell me if it did?"

"I would."

"Good." And that was all she could ask when he remained unshifting about staying by her side, so settled back into watching the last of the sunrise, tracing the patterns in the clouds on his arm. "I'm proud of you, for yesterday. I know how difficult it is to resist when one of them sits next to you."

His brow flattened into a hard line. Proud of him? In less than 48 hours he’d almost murdered three humans on two separate occasions, and she was proud? “We need to talk about your life choices.”

“Hush." She simply smiled, knowing no matter how many shitty things she’d done in her life, at least she’d never been a confederate solider. "I’ve been meaning to apologise for how I acted when you slipped up a few weeks ago. I said a lot of mean things that weren’t true.”

“I made you mean, remember?”

Eda shook her head. “I should have kept my mouth shut and listened, pushed passed it.” Though even the mere memories of the flood of rage she’d experienced seemed immovable. It had felt like her own despite her knowing it wasn’t.

“I have yet to meet anyone who can _push passed_ my gift.”

“Well I’ll just have to be the exception then won’t I?”

“I’m sending happiness your way. It's comin’. There's nothing you can do to stop it.”

His unanticipated cryptic statement was punctuated by a short pulse of euphoria a second later, and a bubble of giggling from Eda. “… This is the most threatening way I've ever been cheered up.”

Jasper couldn’t quite bring himself to smile, busying himself with straightening out the collar of her shirt. “You met me in an extremely confusing time in my life.” The shirt wasn’t reluctant about cooperating, and his hand slid back into place on her shoulder. “After so many years of slaughter and carnage, I'd lost all my humanity. I had to learn that touch doesn’t always equal pain, at the hands of others and at my own. Peter and Charlotte helped, but sometimes I forget.” He looked down, seeing she was listening carefully, hanging off his every word.

As indebted as she was to Sara, she was a child. A child could not comprehend the horror or its effects. Their focus had been on distancing themselves from the wars, forgetting what had passed, not discussing it. “I’m glad you had your brother and sister, so you didn’t go through that alone.”

“As am I. I can only imagine what I might of become without them…” The destruction he would have undoubtedly caused without his friends to reason with him, Jasper might have drowned in the blood. “Still, I wasn’t much of a laugher before I met you. I was undeniably a nightmare of the grisliest kind. When I left I was the same… I didn't feel much of anything of my own emotions. I couldn't think for a long while… Everything was so loud.” He took her hand from around her middle and placed it to his cheek, and he melted into the contact. “When I'm around you, it's like someone turns down the volume,” Jasper notes, pressing a slow deliberate kiss onto her palm, softer than Eda thought possible, keeping her gaze to make sure she was watching. “It’s nice the first thing I heard today was your voice,” he hummed against her skin.

Even though she couldn’t remember ever experiencing such tenderness, she had missed it deep in her soul. “Would it be alright if I hugged you?”

They’re not sure if he pulls her in or she surges forwards but they move in unison, enveloping one another in an embrace that had no business being so tight.

It went against his instincts to be so near another's teeth regardless if he knew Eda wouldn't cause him harm. He was so sure of it he closed his eyes, resting his chin on her collar bone. Eda wrapped her arm around his shoulder blades, her fingers combing through his hair of their own accord.

Jasper remembered the name of his second grade teacher better than the last time he’d been hugged, and without conscious thought gathered fist fulls of the back of her shirt; like she’d ever attempt to escape. Feeling the silent request she squeezes him closer, as if trying to glue those broken fragments together again.

Monitoring the shaking of her breath (her lungs struggling find the motivation to work against his hold), Jasper leaned away, blowing remarkably hot air over her ear as he mumbled into her hair. “It appears Alice has rubbed off on you.”

“Cowboy that is really not something you should be whispering in people’s ears,” she whispered, unable to help the almost unnoticeable shiver at the tickling sensation.

They shake with each others laughter, giggling like school children.

It’s Eda who pulls back first to look him in the face, only to see he’s staring at her lips, and she swallows. He looked a little sad, not at what was happening, at what he had missed.

God he wanted Eda, in some chaste, Victorian way. The sate he was in a glimpse of her ankle might just kill him.

Jasper meets her gaze, locking her in wordless communication. The message rang clear.

“You know, it’s not very fair when you do that,” she mouthed, not removing her hands from his shoulders.

“Do what?” He asks, returning his eyes to her lips.

“That.”

At first he frowns slightly, searching her orbit, and smiles when he finds the culprit: the pulsing desire. “Oh darlin, that ain’t me,” he coos, all brass, his thumb drawing circles on her spine. “That’s all you.”

This time she doesn’t panic, the barely there weight of his arms keeping her against him- but mostly because there isn’t a place on Earth she’d like be more than here in his arms.

Right then she decided she wouldn’t stop herself any longer.

Tilting her head, Eda drives herself forwards; only to be stopped by a hand on the side of her ribs. Under different circumstances it would have spurred her on, but the tiny crease in his brow made him appear in pain and makes her pause. Eda watched him, the flashes of expressions showing the internal struggle he was going through.

“Ma’am’,” he whispered, so close she can feel the vibrations of his voice on her lips, so far she still couldn’t feel the source. “If I kissed you… I don’t think I’d be able to stop.” He means it. This was testing his self control as it was.

“How’s that a problem?”

Fuck she was going to kill him, Jasper thought. “It’s a problem when there’s a pixie starin’ at us,” he hinted, glancing off to the side to where their stalker was watching.

Eda froze, not believing her ears and closing her eyes to keep herself from electrocuting the shit out of that little pervert.

Slower than the rotation of the planet, Eda turned her head. Just like he said, peeking around a tree and smirking like a child who’d just gotten the best Christmas present imaginable, was the Queen peeping Tom herself: Alice.

“How long have you been standing there?” Eda hissed, pulling away from Jasper, reluctant to move too far in case he changed his mind about keeping things private.

“Longer than you’d like,” she admitted, not looking in the least regretful.

Jasper sighed heavily, uncovering his own frustration at being interrupted. “What is _wrong_ with you?”

“I’m ashamed...”

Somehow Eda doubted that. “Go away Alice.”

She didn’t, and instead skipped right up to them, not taking any note of the show of teeth sent her way by Eda. Alice took her wrist, simply keeping Eda from ignoring her. “Come on,” she sang, enjoying every second of this. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later.”

“Alice...” she whined.

It was as if she hadn’t spoke, Alice already tugging her along. “We’re on a deadline.”

Groaning, Eda stood and allowed herself to be pulled away, though kept Jasper's gaze. He was starving behind his ruby eyes.

Jasper stands slowly, and it’s only with the lingering scraps of Southern hospitality tattooed into his mind that he doesn’t take Eda by the waist, pull her in and continue right where they left off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I legit laughed to myself like Mr Krabs while writing this and I am unashamed
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4XboAzcJxXOgwQWos6AWSO - A playlist someone made about Jasper which I think is pretty fucking cool


	26. Not Pictures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter and the next are a joke with myself because originally this was gonna be Alice taking Jas and Eda to get their pictures developed, and instead I scrapped it and wrote two completely different scenes.

On the third day of Alice’s stay Eda noted the girl was acting even stranger than usual (which was apparently possible as she was learning). Jasper was on edge as well, though from the puzzled expression he’d get whenever Alice would turn without warning, leading them away from a certain trail or a particular tree she gathered he wasn’t in on the plan. Just reacting to/and absorbing the tension; just as restless as Eda.

For a girl so obsessed with sticking to a deadline Alice was leading them way off course.

“You know we’re going the wrong way?” Eda had quizzed the pixie, knowing if they kept going south-west they were going to hit Oregon.

But Alice insisted they were going the way that was right for them- Eda didn’t ask -and continued pirouetting without missing a beat. As the hours passed and the sun rose to midday eventually Eda and Jasper came to the unspoken agreement that it was better to go along with the aimless yet not totally directionless wondering, and enjoy the company; no matter how unnerving.

///

The mountains lay as the spine of the land, poking out of the pines in jutting points. It was as if long ago they belonged to a great beast, only to curl up one day and never awake. Perhaps the beast fell into an enchanted sleep, and its soul was still in there; lurking, waiting. They towered in all directions, creating a bowl from the landscape. At its base sat the deceivingly named Heart Lake- which actually looked nothing like a heart from the angle Eda stood. More vast splat than any named shape.

The ground the vampires tread was mainly rouble, ranging from head-sized rocks to stony cars. What little vegetation clung to life at the high altitude could hardy be called grass, nothing more than shrivelled green coral, crunchy and unfulfilling – not that Eda had taken to snacking on it. Obviously. Such an odd thought to have: Alice egging her on and Eda shrugging, doing as she was told. Which wouldn’t happen, because Eda hadn’t done as she was told in many centuries and was above giving into peer pressure.

A quadruple dog dare however… now that was a different matter entirely.

Jasper, the old fart he was, had looked a quite nauseous when Eda had taken the leaf from Alice and swallowed it with a dubious lack of issues.

The trio hiked along the top of the peaks making frankly nonsensical conversation. Alice of course skipped ahead, bouncing from boulder to boulder, sometimes dancing over to the pair to spin under Eda’s arm which she raised willingly. “It goes against my rights to wear dungarees with anything other than a red bandanna on my head. I won’t do it.”

“Eda…”

“Oh cry me a table.”

“That isn’t… never mind,” Alice told her, twirling away, leaving the debate for a few hours.

Taking a glance over her shoulder at Jasper and thinking he looked resoundingly stoned, Eda jumped up a ridge half as tall as she was. Plodding on the edge, Eda peered down into what she knew should be a dizzying drop, locking the thin air threading through her chest. She focused as Jasper appeared on her other side, turning to admire the view and returned the smile sent her way.

Without a second thought Jasper offered his hand, such a small human action that positively rocked Eda’s world. It came naturally to take it, holding onto his index and middle finger. So did Jasper resting his thumb over her knuckles. Hiding her expression, though she knew he would sense the warmth coming from her, Eda turned back to gaze over the ledge; debating lugging the others into the lake, to test if Jasper would fair resisting skunk blood better than human blood.

Although Eda doesn’t see the look Jasper and Alice shared, she felt the effects.

Alice comes bounding up to her, taking her case and replacing it with her hand. Eda goes along with the dance at first, prancing with the girl, allowing her to tow her faster and faster. The pixie doesn’t let go, and she begins to pull harder and harder, practically dragging Eda when she no longer worked to match the pace. She was becoming accustomed to accepting strange behaviours from the girl, however it was as Jasper let go of her hand that Eda heard the tell tale sound of his marching, and the uncertainty grew roots. He stared into the distance in front of him, his eyes fixed, keeping Eda in his peripheral vision. He didn’t need to search out what had set Alice off. He knew what was out there. It was all a little unsettling to Eda, who was getting the impression she was being escorted.

Jasper and Alice hadn’t seemed the most likeliest of friends, though now it seemed they were allied in keeping Eda away from whatever they had sensed- and that just wouldn’t do. “Alice?” She was met with silence on both sides. Instantly Eda stopped in her tracks, digging in her heels to halt Alice’s attempts at heaving her along. The girl span with the force, sending splinters from the ground beneath their feet. “What’s happening?”

“She doesn’t need to die,” Alice shot back, regaining her balance and trying again in vain to jerk her forwards.

Eda really wished Alice would stop speaking in riddles. Her clue came in the shape of Jasper half-glaring over his shoulder at the path behind them and getting the hint Eda did the same, finding nothing she hadn’t already seen. Even so, the direction of the wind had changed and she took a breath to see what she’d missed. With it came the scent of a vampire, a stranger. Sand, the overly sweet stench of a vampire being burned, and… Jasper? In the blink of an eye Eda turned fully, ignoring Alice’s protests as she escaped the girls clutches. “Tell me who that is,” Eda called, not liking the blend of death and Jasper mixed together, hoping to all that was holy that it wasn’t what she thought it meant.

There was no help to be found from Alice at this time. “Come on!”

“Who is that?” Silence again. “Is it Maria?” She growled, taking a step to begin tracking, stopped by Alice grabbing her arm with both hands and gripping harder than before.

“Jasper and her can part on good terms. If we just talk-”

“No,” Eda interrupts, seeing the growing tension from Jasper at the prospect of speaking to his maker. “She will die.” Once Eda found her, and she would find her. Maria was likely watching this play out right now somewhere below. It wouldn’t take long to follow the trail.

“It doesn’t have to be that way.”

Wheeling back on the girl, everything slots into place inside Eda’s mind. “This is why you’re back isn’t it?” Eda shook her head in disbelief, rethinking the trust she’d placed in Alice. Of all things she could be stubborn about, did this really need to be one of them? What actions had been taken she hadn’t questioned before? “Go on then. Enlighten me. If we kill Maria what will happen?”

Going quiet, her face falling, Alice told them in the end, “a life will be lost.”

Eda scoffed, and couldn’t help laughing a little. “Is that all?”

She cringed, openly disguised with the coldness, rasping out, “I haven’t killed another of our kind before.”

 _Jesu_ _s._ _It was like talking to Carlisle_ , Eda thought, rolling her eyes. It was difficult to remember sometimes that killing had to learnt, that it wasn’t ingrained into people, that it hadn’t once been a way of life for everyone.

“There are other ways. Not everything needs to end in death.”

There wasn’t any question if Eda could live with herself if she allowed Maria to (literary) walk away when the scent was so fresh. “Maria does.”

“No she doesn’t,” Alice chastised. “Every life is precious!”

Alice always wanted to see the best in people, Eda on the other hand saw the truth. “Tell it to someone who cares.” Uninterested by the idea of arguing further and wasting time Eda shook out of the hold, and once more is stopped by Alice catching the inside of her elbow. Slapping the hand away with perhaps more hostility than strictly necessary, Eda tried to remind herself that she didn’t want to hurt the girl. “Disrespect me again, I’ll eat your shower curtains,” she joked through gritted teeth, bared in what could never be called a smile.

“I have glass doors.”

At the absurdity and wondering how Alice couldn’t read the situation, Eda tilted her head. “Well crunchity munchity then. You think that’ll stop me?” _That you could stop me_? _That anyone could stop me?_

Seeing stubborn glint in the pixie’s eye, Eda’s face twists. It was not a kind expression, one of disdain. The monster breaching the surface, eager for the hunt; any hunt. “Don’t provoke me Alice,” she warned in a whisper, stepping closer to purposely invade the girl's space.

Blinking up at her, Alice seemed to finally realise the gravity of the threat. “If you do this I’ll… I’ll never speak to you again.”

“I have been alone for six hundred years child. You can’t threaten me with solitude.” Ripping her arm out of Alice’s grip and shoving her in the chest with the other, Eda takes a running start after Maria, not staying around to see her being sent staggering back.

With one goal in mind, Jasper watches as Alice narrows her eyes, sprinting at Eda, and follows not a millisecond behind.

Eda was faster, but it didn’t count for much when Alice could predict every effort to evade her, knew where she had gone before she was going. In less than three steps Alice is jumping on Eda’s back, tackling her to the ground. The mass of growls and limbs convulse, and begin to roll down the hill.

“Get off!” Alice does no such thing. “I can handle this!” Eda yells in Jasper's vague direction, hearing him skid to a stop while they continue to bounce.

“Let me love you!”

“What? No!”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know how to love you!”

“With your whole heart silly!”

“This isn’t how people make friends you ass!” Eda cursed, disregarding the elderly pine they bulldoze through.

“We’re sisters, we’re doing this!”

They tumble to a stop (and to Eda’s shock) with Alice on top.

Slammed on her back, winded and vision spinning, Eda was barely conscious of the water at the top of her head. It doesn’t register they’ve stopped at the lakes edge, too busy ducking her chin to hide her throat and throwing up her hands. “The fuck’s wrong with you?” She exclaimed, gobsmacked as Alice takes a determined seat on her middle, not making any obvious move to attack. For the first time in her entire life Eda had lost a fight, and she’s still alive to be confused. “What the _fuck_!”

“Maybe you’re not as scary as you think.”

“You’re right, I’m worse.”

“-Than Edward.” She continued in deeper voice, parroting, “ugh! I’m Eda, I’m the worlds most dangerous predator, this is the skin of a killer-”

Her jabbering is overshadowed by Eda’s hiss. “That’s too far!” Her struggles renew, though Alice simply dodges the punch meant for her side.

“No you don’t understand, that’s legit what he said to me last week,” Alice rushed to explain.

Eda stopped fighting, her brows shooting into her hairline. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah! Word for word.”

Her mouth hung open, catching flies, her mind going blank for a second. Eventually she shakes her head. “… That settles it, I’m not going to the Cullen’s.”

“Yes you are,” Alice gasped, scandalised by the whole idea. “And for the record I’d never say something like that about you.”

“Or else I’d end you.”

“I bet you would,” Alice squeaked, bopping her nose. Eda went cross eyed following the finger, not knowing if she ought to be insulted, deciding she was. Eda pondered her options for a moment, hearing Jasper land near by.

Having been unable to stay so far away, he’d jumped to the bottom of the mountain after them and came to stand beside them, just in case Alice was planning an ambush. If Eda spear-headed an attack Jasper would undoubtedly join in, that much was unconditionally true, one of the few things they both knew for sure.

If she rolled them Jasper wouldn’t be able to get to her head. She would have to rear up and shove against the girl's front to make her fall backwards, trapping her arms under her legs so-

She cut the thoughts off, knowing that was exactly how the pixie would gain the upper hand. If Eda was going to continue an attack it would have to be led on impulse, without plans or safety nets.

Surly Alice knew Eda was in her element in the water if she could foresee everything else? Was Alice working with Maria? She had led them South. She knew of Maria. She was from the South. She had attempted to stop Maria’s death. Would it be too left field to think she was one of the scouts Jasper had told her about- no, that was paranoia. Just Eda’s good ol’ pal paranoia. Alice wasn’t a part of any army. It was shamelessly clear Alice did not know war, though she was a skilled fighter- and she was smirking!

Was this all a game to her? It was still to be seen if their spat had counted as an argument. Was this a test? Was this Alice’s time of sizing up the opposition, deciding if Eda was friend or foe? Was that even a thing vampires did or just another lingering habit on Eda’s behalf? Or was it nothing at all that they’d landed so close to the lake, merely the way the wind had blown them? As formidable as the pixie had been revealed herself to be, it had yet to be seen if she could defend against both Jasper and Eda’s attacks if they chose to go their own way. It would certainly be a thrilling experiment to test how far her powers stretched, if the girl could watch both their manoeuvres at once, both present and future.

Yet as Eda gawped up at Alice, she came to the honestly unsurprising revelation that battling the pixie was at the very bottom of her bucket list. It was on it at this present moment make no mistake, but at the bottom none the less. “Will you really never speak to me again if I kill Maria?”

“You’re not that lucky, though I’d be very put out.”

Still weighing up the pros and cons, Eda looks to Jasper hovering next to them, seeing he was unsure if he should be coming or going. She didn’t blame his confusion; Eda didn’t have a much clearer outlook on the situation herself.

“Jasper, thoughts?” Eda inquired, needing a second opinion she could understand. If he wanted her to stop she’d stop. Eda wouldn’t push for vengeance on Maria if he wanted none.

Jasper was thinking multiple things right now. Firstly, what the fuck? Secondly, the fuck? Thirdly, Eda had a lot of leaves trapped in her hair, and a twig. Alice was enjoying this too much, and Eda- mostly not. Lastly, either Alice was a brilliant actress, or she and Eda were destined to be sisters. Just… general confusion all round.

Arching an eyebrow at him, Eda prompted, “about Maria?”

Oh yeah, Maria. That bitch.

He thought hard about what they should do, scanning the scenery around them, checking for faces and wisps of hair amongst the trees. There was no sign of Maria, however the scent was still fresh at the top of the mountain. Regarding the peek, he listened for the scuttling of rocks, finding only silence and panicked heartbeats of animals. “She’ll be long gone by now,” he said at last, taking some comfort that Maria probably wasn’t watching the unravelling of their clan and wouldn’t be able to exploit that later.

Eda sent a glare at Alice, who simply stuck out her tongue at her, not doing herself many favours.

“Her armies are failing and her territories are getting smaller by the day,” he added, turning back to the women, frowning at their antics. “She’ll be back.” She always was. “Maria will die, but not here.”

At ease in the knowledge that justice would be served eventually, Eda immediately went limp. Alice took a glance over at Jasper, knowing she was out numbered, coming to the same conclusion. With a huff she stood, dusting off her clothes.

Slowly Eda does the same, and Jasper is beside her in an instant. There was no doubt whose team he was on. She doesn’t outwardly react to the feeling of wet hair clinging to her neck, simply waited to see what happened between them next. Apparently Alice couldn’t sense the tension, and began to skip back up the mountain as if they’d had nothing more than a pleasant mothers meeting about what games they would play that evening over afternoon tea.

Jasper sampled the emotions of the women, taking in Eda’s sticking irritation and Alice’s returning good mood, making a face at the surprise Alice felt as she discovered they weren’t following. “Why are you so angry at me?” She asked, genuinely not understanding where the hitch lay.

“I don’t know, maybe because you’ve just dragged me down a mountain,” Eda supposed, oozing insidious anger, not bothering to cover her temper. This time the girl had pushed too much too hard, tried her luck too far, and Eda was done being accommodating.

“Psh.” Alice waved her accusations off. “Is that all?”

“What is this?” She snapped, squinting up at the girl. “What are you doing? What’s going on?”

“I’ve already told you?” Eda stared at her blankly, standing her ground as Alice took a step towards her. “You’re going to have to just trust me.”

“Easier said than done I’m afraid.”

“Rome wasn’t built in a day,” Alice sang, shrugging.

“It was burned in one.” At the icy tone Jasper injected a small dose of serenity, sedating the atmosphere to avoid another clash. All the excitement of the previous weeks surrounding her new friend had soured. Then the frenzy vanished with Jasper’s intervention and Eda blinked, remembering that wasn’t true. Scrubbing her face, Eda sighed and dropped her hands. “Work with me Alice!” Jasper couldn’t help noticing for the first time how defeated she looked. “Give me anything.” She wanted to be friends, she really did, but how could she?

“I’ve been trying to find you two for the last twenty eight years,” Alice declared, biting back a grumble. “When I woke up I had nothing, knew nothing. I killed so many people. I didn’t know who or what I was.”

So Alice thought she had witnessed enough blood-shed. How naive to think there would ever be an end to that particular snag. It did clear a few things up for Eda, the tireless persistence being one of them. After waiting so long did it really come to a shock why she was so graby towards them?

“Where was your creator?” Jasper spoke up, putting another notion at the centre stage of Eda’s thoughts. She could have met Jasper twenty eight years ago, or if not then, sooner than now.

“I never found them,” Alice explained, drawing her attention back to the present. “I had no one.”

Eda shared a look with Jasper. A newborn with no memory or maker to handle them sounded like the stuff of nightmares if they could ever have one. Thinking back to her own newborn phase Eda gave a shudder, remembering how feral she’d been in that first year. Wild with thirst, feeding on anything and anyone put in front of her. Even those who had no blood to give hadn’t been wholly safe from her fangs, dead or undead. To be moving was to be a meal. “How did you not kill a whole city?” At least she had Arrius to teach her what it meant to be a vampire, to give some measly scrap of identity no matter how wretched. Add her visions to the mix and it was a miracle she was as sane as she was.

“I was in the middle of the woods. I just ran, until I had my first vision, and it was you.” She pointed at Eda. “You said my name, or what I think is my name. I knew I had to find you, not that you made it very easy for me.” Crossing her arms over her chest, Alice jutted out her chin. “I knew I’d find you in the forests. I just didn’t know when, or where, or what I was going to do when I found you.”

“You knew who Jasper was, where he was. Why not just find him instead?”

“He wasn’t ready. He would have ran. There was many chances he would have tried to kill me,” Alice stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Every time I went to find him I saw a vision of me burning.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Eda was forced to acknowledge the strange but familiar ache in her chest. It seemed their friendship had not been destroyed, just on the rocks; discovering grudges (a concept which had always sounded so solid and unwavering) were complicated things for Eda now she had reasons to have them- or not have them. Her resentment for the Volturi, for her own creator, she could tell the difference between those and Alice.

With something playing on her mind, Alice pondered aloud, “has he told you why he was in that diner-”

“No,” Jasper rumbled, unwilling to spill that specific detail. It was better not to say what he had been plotting whilst the air between the trio was clearing. Not that what he was doing would provoke them further, merely because he didn’t want to become the centre of attention while they were rebuilding their bond. To Jasper, they had better, more important things to be concerned about than him.

But Alice did raise an interesting point for Eda. Why was he in such a crowded place, with his limited self restraint, so thirsty? Why leave it so long between meals only to waltz straight into a honeypot? “You learnt the diet by yourself?” Eda asks instead, acting as if she wasn’t aware of Jasper withdrawing, thinking about how she’d bring it up with him privately at a later date.

“I saw the Cullen’s, and you. I saw how you hunted, what you hunted.” For once Alice appeared to appreciate the change in subject. “Wasn’t too hard when I knew nothing else.”

Nodding slightly, Eda decided the discourse had gone on long enough. “Cold hard truth? You really pissed me off today. Don’t do it again.”

“I promise nothing,” Alice said with a grin.

The way things were turning out that was probably a safe bet. “And I’m sorry for wanting to crush your head.”

“And I apologise for pushing you down a mountain.” Swaying on the balls of her shoes, looking rather smug with her hands on her hips, Alice chirped, “truce?”

Eda sighed deeply, and allowed the side of her mouth twitch in a smile, accepting fate. “Truce.”

Letting out a squeal, Alice ran at them and Eda braced her nerves for a hug. Instead Alice almost fell, tripping over her own feet as her expression went blank. Rushing to catch her, fearing life was not one thing after another, that the damn things would overlap, Eda put out her arms. Whatever distress had mounted at the spectral of a vampire being clumsy evaporated as Alice burst into life once more, rescuing herself and flitting away. “I’ll see you two at the top,” she shouted, leaping back up the slope.

Straightening, Eda struggled to come to terms with the events of this recent encounter, tempted to try having a nap. How anyone could keep up with the girl was beyond her, and wondered how Carlisle had dealt with the stark contrast in personalities. “… Didn’t think the first fight I’d lose would be to Tinker Bell.”

“You’re still alive,” Jasper muttered, equally perplexed. To see Eda at the mercy of another had been a stomach churning experience, one he never hoped to witness for the remainder of their lives. “She must of taken pity on you, old age an’ all.”

And just like that Eda was smiling, nudging her shoulder into him, happy that whatever mood he had sunken into was gone. “Now you’ve crossed the line bucko.” Pushing away the fleeting idea of asking about why he was in the diner, Eda felt the return of his hand tentatively brushing against hers. He wasn’t off the hook just yet, but it could wait until she was sure he was alright if it was such a sore area.

“She’s so different from us,” he noted, watching the top of the hill to make sure Alice wasn’t spying again. The dread it had riled from Alice when Eda had taken off wasn’t helping his suspicions. Alice was still keeping secrets; something involving Maria and Eda no less. “Before, she was afraid. She’s worried about what will happen when we find Maria.”

Humming in agreement, Eda couldn’t understand what had given Alice the impression this was a bad idea. Two against one, what was the worry? She’d taken on worse odds than that, as had Jasper. Surely she wouldn't bring her army all this way. “So what now?” In the end it didn’t matter if Alice was on board with their plan, it would happen either way. She must have known that much.

“Well I know where I’m goin’.” Shrugging, seemingly completely relaxed as she raised an eyebrow in question, Jasper continued causally, “I’m following you.”

“You’re something else cowboy,” Eda hushed, stifling a laugh when he gave her a look like he agreed.

Pretending not to hear their whispering, Alice let out a breath and perched on a ledge flat enough to be somewhere close to comfortable, crossing her legs while she waited. Despite her keenness to keep moving, Alice reserved herself to give them what little privacy she could, knowing they would join her eventually.

Today had pulled up topics previously years squashed in hiding. Recalling her first memories, of being alone in bright morning sunlight, Alice rolled her eyes at the parallels tomorrow would bring. They wouldn’t be able to go into town like they needed, sanctioned to the woods. With nothing else to do, Alice remembered her birth, if you’d call it that.

Knowing nothing for her first seconds of life other than tangled, beaten down grass pressing against her cheek. The blackness, no sense of identity or purpose. An alien in the world. A freak among freaks she would later learn.

Then her first vision had gripped her.

A woman’s face, murderous and broken at the same time, scared. Deep golden eyes, filled with fear and mirth. With this face came a profound conviction of belonging, she was a part of her family. She was her sister. It had confused her, made her question why she was not marked like the woman. She saw her speak a name: Alice. Her name, she realised. The visions told her who she was, shaped her into who she had become. These were the only help she got.

It had taken a few years to iron out the kinks in her introductions. Eda was always entertained enough to follow at first, it was the streak of distrust that threatened their relationship. Lying was not an option, so Alice had told her exactly what she needed to know. Of course Alice hadn’t seen the beginnings of their friendship would be playing tug of war over revenge, but it was something at least. Better than one or both of them running away from her, or Eda murdering her, or Jasper murdering her. All things considered this version was pretty good.

Jasper had been more difficult to pin down, too wary of Alice, who knew too much about too many things. He would have been overwhelmed with the sudden positivity if she’d been the one to find him; wouldn’t have even entered the diner never mind sat down to chat. He’d needed someone who knew what he knew, someone who understood and equally disorientated.

Turning at the sound of her friends rejoining her, Alice saw Eda coming up the hill, and blinked in surprise when she ruffled Alice’s hair as she passed. “Come along now pixie, we’ve got people to see, places to be, deadlines to meet. I can’t have you lolling about like some coach potato.” Jasper followed a step behind, tipping his head in recognition, signalling all had been forgiven and forgotten.

 _Back on track_ , Alice thought, resuming the dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love how Eda’s all like: “Nope that’s paranoia, ha ha classic me.” Then immediately spirals head first even deeper into paranoia.
> 
> Imma be real. I hate this chapter.
> 
> Snuck a quote from Midnight Sun in here too, why not. I changed who Alice saw first because I kinda took it as who she needed to find first and since she found Eda first y'know


	27. Also Not Pictures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my beloved fuckos, friends and enemies, my fellow yees and haws, Gentlefok, Ferals and domesticated cryptids. I write bastard sentences with my evil little hands and make them everyone else's problem. I love it, and if my love is illegal I will break the law.

Just as predicted, on the following day the sun was too bright to allow them to cross town like they needed to continue their journey, and Alice put up less of a fight than anticipated about putting their trek on hold until dusk. Instead they roamed the woods vaguely North, getting neither further or nearer to their destination.

On their way they found a cavalry of weeping willow trees at the bottom of a valley, plump in spite of their toasted tops. One was many years old with grant thick limbs curling out like crooked fingers, classically veiled beneath its tent. It was no more spectacular than its neighbours with exception to its occupants; for its branches did not hold roosting birds. They held vampires, hiding from prying eyes (imaginary or real) behind a vertical carpet of twitching leaves.

Having already taken a seat at the base, Jasper watched the ruckus occurring above him, leaning his elbow on Eda’s case.

Scampering up the trunk as Alice flies up after her, Eda was tearing up a storm. Twisting in the air to thread through a cagey bough, she missiles down to drop to the branch below. Right on her tail, Alice almost reaches her, before a spilt second decision takes charge. Catching the branch beside her head but continuing to run, Eda flips, treading air until she landed on the perch above and bolting again; this time backwards so she can taunt Alice by pulling faces.

The whole kerfuffle had started as a relatively civilised discussion about which gods in Greek mythology they liked best. Truthfully it went over Jasper's head so he stayed out of it, sticking with his first thought of Zeus – and was immediately made aware that was the wrong answer. Aside from the obvious, the idea of becoming a swan didn’t appeal to him. Alice had taken a shine to the story of Icarus. Of course Eda hadn’t been able to resist likening Alice to the sun and herself to Icarus, and received a swift renaming as Koalemos: God of stupidity. Eda had simply snorted, stating she preferred Dionysus. Alice, knowing that was the God of wine and ecstasy, had hinted only ecstasy was up for grabs; reminding her she could not drink wine. She’d zoomed after her before she could say anymore on the subject in such proximity to their clueless cowboy.

Still, it had long melted into a fun learning experience: Eda teaching herself how much thought she could give to her actions to catch Alice off guard, discovering it was an even thinner line than she’d imagined.

It’s unclear if Alice catches her or if they simply vault to the ground at the same time; Jasper hears the twin thumps of them landing a second before they come barrelling around the tree.

Eda then Alice.

Eda then Alice.

Then just Alice, and she stopped in her tracks. “Eda?”

At her name she drops to land right beside her, laughing when Alice jumped. “You rang- Ow! Ow! Evil little pixie!” Leaping away as she began swatting at her arm, Eda resumes the game.

It takes a while for them to calm down but eventually the women settle enough to part ways: Alice sitting opposite Jasper and Eda remaining in the canopy.

“Alice?” Jasper asked when there was a lull in conversation. “You told us not to go to the Atlantic Ocean, why?”

She hesitates, but she tells them. “If you go to the ocean before going to the Cullen's you’ll stay there, although that future isn’t as clear as it used to be.” Alice trailed off, and he takes the pause to mull it over. Eda, deadly and red-eyed, showing him exactly how right he had been when he had thought she resembled a siren. “You would go back to feeding on humans and not see the point of leaving. I want my brother and sister to come home, as selfish as that sounds.”

Lounging above, Eda heard the confession and mused what could have been, not trying to cover how much appeal it held. It didn’t sound all that bad. Jasper would see the ocean, the real ocean. She didn’t see the harm in going back to the natural diet, with the exception of the effect killing his meals had on Jasper. Surely there had to be a way around it though. Maybe they could work together: Eda stunning their prey so Jasper could feed without feeling their deaths.

But Alice. Carlisle.

Although it was unlikely they’d stay at sea forever, Eda really wanted to see her friend, this family he’d made. It’d be a show of nothing except cowardice if she backed out now, and she had given up running away long ago.

With a sigh Eda rolled sideways to fall, not thinking much of taking her seat beside Jasper, not so accidentally knocking knees with him as she sat cross legged. It was only then did she realise she’d sat on the side he was using her case as an arm rest. Alternately it wasn’t as if she could steal so much as a wink without being rustled under the microscope of Alice. On second thought, the outlook brightened considerably when he discreetly pressed his leg against hers a little more firmly.

Not even blinking as Alice got a bottle of red nail polish from behind her back, Eda waited to see what she’d do. Truly Eda was passed questioning Alice’s reality bending ways, not mounting any arguments when she took her hand. Instead she leaned forwards, letting her do as she pleased. Eda thought for a while, watching Alice paint her nails. Unfamiliar, but she’d never been one to say no to a new experience; especially when the outcome was so aesthetically pleasing.

Alice seemed to know everything about everything, so by extension she should know the answer to a question which had haunted Eda for centuries. “Alice-”

“Don’t ask me that.”

Dumbfounded by the resistance, she continued, completely serious. “A ma-”

“Eda-”

“Al-”

“Listen-”

“A mammal is something that has hair and produces milk-”

“Stop.”

“So, ergo, a coconut is a mammal?”

“… You and Emmett are going to be great friends.”

“I want an answer.” Alice simply smiled, taking her other hand to grace it with her brush. “You can’t ignore me.”

“I can try,” she chorused. She was going to have to try real hard; Eda wanted at least one more straight answer before they got to the Cullen's. Before she got the chance Alice turned to Jasper. “What’s it like being so tall?”

“Yeah Jas, what can you see from up there?” Doing the same, Eda saw he had his chin propped on his fist to spectate their verbal ping-pong.

The sexiest thing a man can be is kind, selfless, attentive and honest about his feelings- and Jasper was all those at once, especially when he looked at Eda like he was now. “I can see everyone’s flaws,” Jasper noted casually as if commenting on the weather. It’s in the eyes. Always the eyes that betray his intentions. “You have none.”

“I know,” Alice chirped up.

Blinking out of her trance, Eda turned back to Alice, who was looking mighty pleased with herself. “Indeed,” Eda said in a fruity voice, playing along. “I have yet to encounter another creature so intoxicating.”

“Fool,” Alice spat, pursing her mouth in a failed attempt at hiding her smile.

Eda put her finger to her ear. “What’s that, I make you drool? Alice don’t be so vulgar!”

“I’m going to punch you in the face.”

“Can you even reach?”

“Low blow.”

“That’s exactly what it would have been.” On the subject… “How tall are you?”

“Five one.”

Drawn in by their warm emotions, Jasper chuckled quietly, “no you’re not,”

Humming her agreement, Eda was equally skeptical. “Any shorter and you’d probably fade out of existence.”

“You didn’t let me finish!” She said nothing else, earning an expectantly raised brow from Eda. “I’m five one… In heels,” Alice added, covering her mouth with her hand as she mumbled behind it.

“Being tall equals power,” Jasper rumoured lowly.

“Ex-squeeze me?” Eda hollered, shooting him a brief glance, rolling her eyes when she saw the mischievous glint staring right back at her.

“Though some would argue it comes with age,” he divulged, maintaining his perfectly deadpan expression, enjoying winding her up.

Ignoring Alice’s tittering, Eda kept her attention on her nails. “I’m the eldest, by a lot.”

“You don’t know how old you are,” he reminded, pausing before continuing off handedly, “I think you’re really about seventeen. Equals it out.”

Now even Eda didn't have time to unpack all of that. “You…” she trailed off, turning to Jasper to make sure she’d heard him correctly. “You think two mortal years evens out five hundred?”

At some point somehow Jasper had leaned forwards without her knowledge, now atoms away from pressing his elbow into the back of hers; a high-risk move considering they were on full display for Alice’s viewing pleasure. “Sounds ‘bout right.”

Fighting to keep her breathing steady when she noticed he was reading her lips, she took the leap and shifted subtly to nudge his arm. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty.”

Allowing himself to smirk, Jasper lifted his eyes to match her gaze, all too aware of how much he regretted not taking his chance two days ago. “You think I’m pretty?”

She jumped away at the sound of Alice barking a laugh at them, remembering they had company.

“Fabulous work pixie,” she muttered, realising Alice had been done for some time. Making a move to jump to her feet with the intent of climbing the tree, Eda froze when her escape was fraught by a hand gripping her leg.

“I’m not letting you go until you’re dry,” Alice chirped sharply.

“Uh-uh, going to have to hit you with a big ol’ bonk of disagree on that one.” To retaliate Eda grabbed the girl's wrist. “I’m not stuck here with you, you’re stuck here with me.”

Alice wasn’t giving up, jabbing the air with her free hand. “Either way, you’re not going anywhere.”

Narrowing her eyes at the finger pointed at her (and not daring to look at Jasper to see what he made of her being forced to stay beside him), Eda released her wrist, falling backwards onto the grass with a dramatic huff. “My spirit is crushed. Happy?”

“Yep,” she squeaked, beginning to paint her own nails.

Grinning as an idea dinged inside her mind, Eda lifted her head to peer down at Alice. “Y’know pixie it broke my heart.” Alice glared from under her lashes. “That you pointed me to that diner rather than take me for yourself.” Waiting for the other shoe to drop so to speak, Alice blinked slowly at her. “Then it occurred to me I could have both.”

“Greedy.”

“Love cannot be greedy.” Just as expected Alice gagged dramatically, and Eda shrugged. “Star crossed lovers it is then.” Without permission Eda found herself glancing at Jasper, only encouraged by the sight of his shoulders shaking in silent laughter. It was a relief Jasper hadn’t thought anything of her teasing; it likely had something to do with him being tuned into everything she felt. Still, she was glad he could spot differences. As tempting as the theory of some cliché triangle arrangement was, to have it play out as reality would have been another story entirely.

“It’s not going to work,” Alice said in a sing song voice.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she mimicked in the same tone, theatrically twirling some unruly hairs around her finger. Several strings of red told her she’d smudged her nails. Drats. She was doomed from the beginning.

“You’re staying there until you’re dry.”

Giving up, Eda let her head drop back to the ground in surrender. “Good effort though wasn’t it?” Quickly growing bored with staring into the sun as it tried to claw its way through the leaves above, Eda dug around in her pocket, coming up with a small pebble in a lobster pinch grip. “No matter, I’ve got this rock to keep me occupied.”

Having already been watching her, Jasper frowned down at the stone. It was flat and dull, slightly glittery where she’d held it in her palm. Not recalling seeing her pick it up, and thinking it didn’t look as though it belonged around them, he asked, “where’d you get it?”

“Alice gave it me,” she said quietly, keeping his gaze and thinking she should have been blushing at the instantly softer tone she’d developed for him. The contrast of how she spoke to him differently from other people couldn’t have been clearer in the middle of the ongoing bickering.

“I threw it at you.”

“Sometimes I can still hear her voice.”

“Sucker.”

She elected not to throw it at her in the end. “Pot kettle- get sucked.” Instead Eda closed her eyes and did her damnedest to go to sleep. It went without saying it was unsuccessful, so spent her extra brain power polishing the rock with her thumb. “I can’t stay here for eternity.”

“You will.”

“I cannot.”

“Eda…” Alice warned.

She grunted twice in disagreement and was about to roll away when a large hand took the rock from between her fingers. “Keep your hands to yourself pixie.”

“That’s not me and you know it!” She squawked back.

Getting his smiling under control, Jasper made a point of letting his touch linger as he returned the rock. With great difficulty he withdrew his hand, getting a sense of deja vu as he began watching Alice painting her nails.

It took Eda by surprise when Alice asked kindly, “want some?” Curious about the switch in attitudes, Eda spied a peek at Jasper, seeing he’d been studying Alice painting her thumb. Eda sees him squint at the bottle, considering it.

“I’d prefer blue.” Honestly he would have said yes, however with Maria lurking god knows where, Jasper thought it’d be best not to give her another reason to evoke what he knew was coming.

“Blue would suit you better.” Nodding, Alice’s eyes glaze over for a moment, gleefully offering up the bottle and sticking out her hand.

If he thought too hard about how in the past month he’d encountered two vampires who couldn't care less how infamous his trail of terror was, he might just have an identity crisis. Regardless, Jasper took the bottle and complied, holding her finger tip as he went as he’d learnt to, wiping any spills before they stained.

“You’re really good at that,” Eda thought aloud, recognising the muscle memory.

For a minute he was silent, then smiled. “I had a sister.”

“What was she like?” She coaxed quietly, knowing the likelihood that she wasn’t alive anymore.

It took a while for the words to come out, but once they came he couldn’t stop. “Younger than me by three years. She liked the finer things in life, not that she got much of those… For her tenth birthday she got a box of ribbons for her dolls. She tried to tie bows in her hair like she’d seen my mother do. She wasn’t good at it, so I’d be made to play butler when I had the time.” One of his clearest human memories was how his mother insisted on slicking back his hair with lard when he was young, how his sister would tease him in the summers when the grease would drip down his face. “Never in my life have I met a little girl so annoyin’. Y'all'd've liked her. She could start an argument in an empty room, often did.” Suddenly aware of his own speaking in the past tense, Jasper swallowed, fixing an easy expression before looking to Alice. “How are your sisters these days?”

She said nothing, blinking in confusion.

Watching him debate if he should withdraw back into his shell, Eda continued for him, “Lachesis, Atropos.”

“You exhaust me,” Alice joshed, pretending she wasn’t smiling.

With a flutter of her lashes, she fanned her hand. “You’re making me blush!” Maybe she was laying it on a little thick, but a happy atmosphere made Jasper happy, and that's what she was aiming for.

“You’re not going to put a stop to this are you,” Alice said to Jasper with surprise in her voice for some reason.

“Wouldn’t put money on it,” he replied with a tiny smile. It was a unanimous verdict with himself that he needed to know more about Alice if he was going to befriend her. “You saw Eda, and me.” People liked talking about themselves and what they wanted, so Jasper decided to start with a question he already half knew the answer for. “I don’t mean to pry, but is your mate joining us?”

“No, I don’t think they’ve been born yet.” Making a sound to show he was listening, Jasper filed away the confirmation. Alice had told them what he could only guess was almost everything her visions showed her, about the future and little insignificant details such as Rosalie had worn a white coat today (which she approved of). If she’d seen her mate they’d have known about it. “I'd like a mate one day.”

Helpless, Eda took the irresistible bait. “You'd like _to_ mate?”

“I said, I wouldn't mind a mate,” Alice countered.

Faking shock, Eda sucked in a gasp. "You're not mating with me sunshine."

“You're not matin’ with me sweetie,” Jasper said at the same time. They shared an inquisitive glance, acknowledging the truth beneath the jokes. Not exclusivity, but something. That meant something.

They’re brought back to the present by Alice’s caterwauling. “ _A_ mate! I said _a_ mate!”

Crossing her arms under her head, Eda sent her a wicked smirk. “Just as well, I'm not having any of that nonsense.” Jasper flicked his eyebrows up in agreement. “You and me, it could never work. I'm not open to being anyone's experimental phase anymore. I know you're devastated, but this too shall pass.”

Alice rolled her eyes, refusing to egg them on. Careful about her nails, she reached up into the canopy, breaking off a vine. The thought crossed Eda’s mind she was making a noose to hang her with. Rather, Alice made a large ring, and freebied it on Jasper's head. “Look Jas, it’s the same colour as your hair,” she squeaked, and Eda laughed at the realisation it was a leaf crown; that people still did that sort of thing.

To the untrained eye it might have appeared he stared at Alice blankly, not liking being decorated. But if you looked closer, saw the slight smile, the subtle tilt of his head, the softening of his eyes; you’d see he was enjoying this.

Not waiting around, Alice set to work making another. “Sit up,” she ordered.

“Oh I can move now?” Eda quizzed, doing as she was told. She couldn’t help shaking her head, still laughing when she also got such a crown placed on her. Knowing this game, Eda let muscle memory take over, ripping down a vine of her own.

“Too big,” Alice told her without looking up.

Pinching off a few inches in response, Eda connected the ends, gently setting the circle atop Alice’s head, readily returning the twinkling smile.

Here they were, two otherwise macabre individuals, carved with deterrents and cautionary signs of how dangerous they were. They reminded their kind that while they thought themselves indestructible, there were worse things a person can suffer than death.

And yet Alice was ecstatic in their company as they all sat in the shade, sporting flower crowns.

Such a strange little pixie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I do not know if Jasper has a human sister in canon, but he does in this AU because why not. 
> 
> 2\. I am SO FUCKING SICK of the idea that hating on female coded things = Strong Female Character™ (looking @ you “ugh Alice I’m not a 3 dimensional Barbie and I never ever wear make up because I’m just that low maintenance and I’m not like other girls” Self Insert Bella Swan), which is why Eda doesn’t complain about shopping or fuss about getting her nails painted; because a woman liking stereotypically feminine things shouldn’t make them weak or vain (yet again looking @ you “Rosalie likes admiring her reflection because she knows she’s beautiful and so is a BITCH even tho all vampires are designed to be beautiful”. Ass ass lookin ass). If y’all imagine me saying Stephenie Meyer in the same tone they say Dinkleberg on Fairly Odd Parents that’s perfectly acceptable- because I do.
> 
> 3\. In canon Jasper and Alice are SOULMATES, they are the picture of true love. This isn’t going to be one of those stories where the love interest hates everyone apart from OC. I’m not going to do that because that’s unhealthy and weird and I do not like it. I do think Jasper would be very suspicious of Alice, but they are gonna be friends because they’re good for each other and I’m unwilling to change that just to validate the relationship between Eda and Jas or whatever the fuck reason people do that trope.


	28. How I Met Your Mother, Satan

The weird behaviour peaked on Alice’s fifth day. She was stuck in a vision for most of the morning, unresponsive and unseeing through glossed over eyes. Both Eda and Jasper had to guide her, taking turns holding onto her elbow as they walked. She wouldn’t answer any questions, but Eda knew what she was doing. She was searching. Watching. Waiting.

And so was Eda. So was Jasper.

It was Eda’s turn to lead Alice, catching drips and drabs of what she was saying. Decoding the barely coherent mutterings, Eda deciphered she was trying to advise them on how to avoid whatever she’d seen. It seemed this was easier said than done however, never fully in the present for more than half second intervals. So far they’d made good progress considering, and had stumbled across a short-cut Eda had found donkeys years ago through the woods; although adjustments had been made when Alice started repeating “fire” immediately afterwards. In short they were now taking the scenic route along the edge, keeping a safe distance as they went around rather than down the middle. At the moment she was stuck in a loop of: “Wrist. Neck. Nose.” It was better than fire. Less helpful, but preferable.

Jasper kept marching, scanning the field to his left which bridged the gap between town and the woods. Meanwhile Eda watched the trees to her right, as if they’d point where the army would come, both thankful and rueful the sun had kept away.

Despite their efforts of maintaining morale Eda and Jasper hadn’t spoken much, and the air remained stagnant. It was tempting to make a break for it, to see who was faster: them or the horde. But without having to mention how they couldn’t run forever, and without the pixie able to debate about it, they’d decided it wouldn’t help their case if they arrived in Washington with an uninvited guest or ten.

The idea of revenge hadn’t seemed as seductive in the past to Jasper, until he’d met Eda; until she’d told him of the fate of her own maker and felt what she felt regarding it. He’d like a taste of that feeling, of freedom.

There was also the issue that Eda flat out refused to run. She’d had enough of being a coward two centuries ago, there was no way in hell she was bringing that behaviour back.

None of this ever passed their lips, but they were both thinking it.

“On your right,” Alice mouthed, a moment before the voiceless song birds perched high above flew away at the sound of a vampire scurrying through the trees. Without hesitation Eda pulled her behind her as she turned, Jasper standing at her side, together in front of Alice, watching the forest sway and waiting as the noise drew closer.

From the shadows emerged a woman with black hair in a tan cotton dress, and a large grey and yellow coat- part of an old confederate soldiers’ uniform, Eda realised. Her eyes glowed red, recently feasted, as she crept forwards, her shoulders moving slightly with her steps; a lioness on the prowl. She saw her prize, and made a face which was likely an attempt at a smile. “Hello soldier.” Her voice was high, smug as Jasper tried not to lean away from her presence. She watched him, waiting- refusing to break his stare until he bowed.

A stiff dip of his head was all he offered.

“Lower,” she purred.

His eye twitched in time with his upper lip curling, not shy about showing his disdain. “Maria.”

 _Maria,_ Eda echoed in her mind, finally able to put a face to the name and eyeballing the trees, hearing and seeing no one else. 

Where was her army?

The familiar waft of vampire death from Maria provided an answer. She’d burned them. It was funny really; she’d do the same as the seasons changed. It was best to have fresh newborns as the days grew darker. The cold tended to tempt the undead out into the open.

Alice was back in the present. “He’s not interested!” She shot from behind the pair, edging closer to glare between their shoulders, sounding shaken at whatever she’d seen.

Together they formed a barricade; Eda putting her hand behind her, mirroring Jasper as he subtly stuck out his elbow an inch. They would not allow Alice too close. Eda was unable to chime in at the moment, flexing her control over her seething. Maria was the woman who had caused pain and unspeakable harm to not only Jasper but every organism she encountered; vampire and mortal alike. And now she had decided to show her face to him again like a plague of locusts, wearing what was undoubtedly Jasper’s coat no less. The implied meaning behind the choice was not lost on any of them: she thought he still belonged to her. As if a person could rightfully belong to anyone.

“You don’t know what I’m offering pollito.” From her smirk Maria thought her offer was pretty good. “Come back with me Major. Come home to Texas. Your army needs you. I need you.”

Jasper shook his head, remembering why he’d left. Her fear, her mistrust, the same Lucy and Nettie had felt before they’d attempted to kill him. Other memories followed. These were different, these were memories of Maria’s skin on his and endless nights of ecstasy, no less painful in their own way. The pleasure came at a high price, and in the end, the price was far too high. “Just go Maria.” He could still hear her voice calling out orders of desolation. His scars stung at the memories.

“You have not called me by my name in years, and you say it twice in one evening...” She snickered, undeterred and stroking the yellow labels of her coat. “I had forgotten I was anything other than mi alma.”

“I wasn’t allowed-”

“You were free to leave. You proved that the night you ran away.”

Swallowing at the reminder that he had not in fact been free to leave, that it’d been an escape, he pressed his lips into a hard line. “I’m not that person anymore. I don’t want-”

She held up a finger, and he went mute. “I forgive you Major, for abandoning me and your men when we needed you most.” She made it sound like he had left her at the alter. “I understand you have other priorities,” a glance at Eda and Alice, “but I know you’ll always be mine, in your heart… Just as I will always remain in y-”

“You are such a cunt,” Eda burst out at her, louder than her purring, no longer able to bite her tongue. Alice’s hand on her arm went unnoticed.

She examined Eda like shit on the bottom on her foot, distantly interested beneath the cringe when her eyes caught on her neck and jaw. “And _who,_ are you?”

So this was the reason behind the sleeves, Eda thought. To hide her more jarring scars from Maria so negotiations could flow. Too many on display might have led to a violent outcome quicker, and Alice wanted them to talk. “Unimportant.”

“Quite,” Maria agreed, turning back to Jasper with an identical wince.

Eda couldn’t help narrowing her eyes in amusement, letting Maria underestimate her. She had nothing to prove to this failing tyrant. It was only a matter of time, and time passed quickly when the air buzzed with tension on days like these. She only needed to stand watch for an opportunity.

“Charming company you keep. Glad to see you’ve moved up in the world. I hope it was worth it.” The mask slipped back on, and the silky tone returned. “Don’t you miss me? Don’t you love me?”

“No,” Jasper said simply, and she blinked in fleeting surprise. “I’m not goin’ back to Texas. Stop sending your scouts. Leave me alone.”

“You must agree it was a glorious time for you. For us.” He didn’t react and continued to stare blankly at her. “You must miss the rush of power, the respect it got you.” She reached a hand towards his cheek and he gritted his teeth as he prepared to endure it, not wanting to retreat in the face of his creator.

“Come closer child,” Eda whispered deathly quiet, daring her to give just one more excuse. If even a finger touched him, that’d be all provoking she’d need. “Come tempt fate.”

They stared at each other for a drawn out moment, not glaring, simply weighing up the opposition. Whatever she found in Eda’s steady leering made her take the hand back: a wise choice if she wished to keep it. “Peter sends his regards,” she drawled, the next phase in action.

“Where did you find him?” Alice spoke up before Jasper could, though it didn’t help him keep in the snarl.

Displeased about having to look at her, Maria sneered, “New York.”

“Lie,” Alice shot back, cocking an eyebrow. “Your information is outdated. He hasn’t been there in months.” How she knew this didn’t concern them, just that she knew was enough. Peter and Charlotte were safe, and Jasper could concentrate on the here and now.

Caught in her fables, Maria began to slink away. “I can see your mind is made up…” Eda resisted sticking her middle finger up as the woman slowly snaked into the trees. “Goodbye Major.” But not before sighing into the wind, “hasta la próxima vez mi amor.” It was probably as tender as Maria could manage. It came out patronising.

Eda took a step, echoing, “next time?”

It’s the smirk Maria sent her that did it. That shit-eating expression lit a match somewhere in her head, flipped a forgotten dusty switch. At the click she dropped her case. Maria fled at the movement. Eda and Jasper shared a glance, and they charged forwards in sync.

“Stop!”

At first Alice holds him back – he lets her hold him back – feeling her terror and in the rush it’s mixed with his own.

“She’s bluffing, she won’t come back.” Eda, so caught up in catching Maria, hadn’t noticed his absence as she chased her deep into the forest like a hell hound, darting through the undergrowth and showing no signs of slowing. “You’re better than this!”

He was really, really trying not to hurt Alice, but he might if she didn’t let go.

“You can overcome this.” Alice couldn’t take seeing the scene she knew was going to unfold again, clinging to his arm as if that would stop it. “Wouldn’t it be much more satisfying to show her you’re more than she made you into? That you’ve changed?”

“Let go,” he warned slowly, low and guttural, all too aware of the sound of metal crashing into metal, signalling the pursuit had ended.

“Maria’s death won’t stop anything. There’s chances it won’t even make you feel better. The wars in the South will continue. It won’t undo what she’s done.”

“I know.” He hears a curse, pained grunts, Maria's scream. The fighting has began, and he’s missing it- and he can’t tell who’s winning.

“Haven’t enough people died? Aren’t you tired of it? Think about it, you’ll feel her pain, her helplessness, her desperation, her fear. Do you really want to feel that?”

Jasper separated Alice’s feelings from his own and knew exactly what he wanted. “Yes,” he said, answering all her questions at once.

///

Maria, foolish arrogant conceited Maria. So many lives influenced and yet so little learned. She knew nothing of Eda, or that her own choice in creating an army was just a loop in history.

Eda caught up with her quickly, wrath drove her faster than Maria’s spite. She catapulted herself into the air, dragging the other vampire to the ground by the back of her neck. The earth echoed beneath them and for a moment it was raining red and brown leaves.

Angry makes you stupid. Stupid gets you killed.

Lost in the thrill of the chase, Eda gets her in a headlock, giving a sharp pull. In the rush she’d misjudged the position and Maria slipped out of the hold, latching onto her wrist and able to hook her hands around Eda’s knee, pulling her down.

Snatching the back of her hair, Maria surged forwards with her mouth wide open. She hits her target, sunk into her throat.

So this was what Alice had seen.

Maria pulling back, ripping her jugular out with her teeth. Eda on the grass in two parts. Fire.

With a weak curse she decided while even fate had favourites, she was done being no ones favourite.

Forcing her fingers between her jaws, Eda jacked open her mouth before she could pull back, not caring about the fangs splitting the tips as they slipped over her canines. Ramming her away, she caught the next attack with thumbs clipped in the inside of Maria's cheeks to avoid the snapping teeth, so close to her face she could feel the graze of her breath.

Yanking a hand from Maria’s mouth, feeling the teeth nick the top of her thumb on the way out, Eda shoved her fist into her face. She felt her nose breaking, heard it landing somewhere off to the side over Maria’s yelp.

That moment of distraction was all she needed.

She rolls them, putting a foot on the inside of each of Maria’s elbows to pin her. It was a difficult balance to match; to restrain but not wanting to hurt her too much until Jasper arrived. At the end of the day this was not her revenge to take, as hard as it was to remember when her hands spasmed into claws against the hold, aiming for her heels, unable to reach.

Giving a cough to clear her crushed airways, Eda zeroed in on the woman below her, adding two to her guesstimated mental tally. She wiped her hand across the new scar on her throat, finding it no different from the others. She’d had worse, and Maria was far from the first to take a bite out of her neck. It was unnoticeable unless you were her and knew the pattern.

“You would have made a fine lieutenant,” Maria thought aloud, no doubt weaving alternate realities about what a pity she hadn’t been the one to turn her, that with such a force in her army they would have been unstoppable.

“I did,” Eda grumbled, not unlike the noise of a distant avalanche, spying a glimpse of the finger she’d almost lost. The paint was chipped. Alice was going to kill her.

If what Maria sought was power, Eda was only too happy to demonstrate. Jasper had always been too distracted and sucked in by the emotions around him. Every death made him guilty. Eda was free of it all.

Splaying her hand across the side of her skull, Eda began the electric shock treatments. Maria made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a slur as she went ridged, eyes rolling into the back of her head before clenching shut, the muscles in her neck budging at the strain as she fought the paralysis; mouth gaping, screaming with the pulse. She was an expert torturer if there ever was one.

“I wonder, who will dig your grave...” she pondered, reining in her gift but keeping her hand where it was; a warning it could return at a moments notice.

She took hard won breath, suffocating in the oxygen. “There isn’t a grave on Earth that can hold me.”

“No worry, I’ll burn you first,” Eda said, sounding remarkably casual about the vow, glancing up at the sound of a vampire running towards them and recognising the rhythm. The drums of war. Jasper was coming.

Maria wasn’t oblivious to the noise. “My Major will not betray me. You’re waiting for nothing.”

At her hissing Eda peers downwards, meeting the glare with a smile. “You want to know who I am?… I am death,” she growled, shifting her hand to press on the bottom of Maria’s jaw, pushing her head back against the dirt to clamp her mouth shut. “Death I am and death I will always be.” Trying to get the last word in, Maria spat through her teeth as she tried to slip out of Eda’s grasp, finding herself unable to move the upper half of her body. She felt her kicking out, missing her entirely. Eda did not yield. “And no one can escape death, not even you.”

Less than a second later Jasper burst into the clearing they’d made, sighing in relief when he saw she’d hung around for him, and how her stare melted at the sight of him. Again Maria tried to squirm. She didn’t gain even an inch.

“I thought I’d ask if you wanted to join in,” Eda said to him, drawing his attention back to her. “Could be therapeutic,” she offered, smiling still despite the context.

He nodded, having been expecting to walk in on a massacre because of his late start. “I’d like that.” His voice was a little wavy even though he was sure, still coping with the thought the opposite of the present had occurred.

He watched Maria persistently try to look at him, trapped under Eda’s grip, snarling in frustration. As he approached Eda stood, keeping hold of Maria’s jaw and dragging her up. It took a kick to the back of the leg to win against a brief recurrence of stubbornness, Maria not putting up much more of a fight as she pushed her down, making her kneel in front of him.

Wanting to make the most of this, Jasper considered his options and looked down his nose at Maria, thinking tactics. “How do you want to do this?”

“Your choice,” she shrugged, tipping her head to the side.

Maria took her chance to beg, pushing against Eda’s hands on her shoulders though the hold had no give. “How I’ve missed your ways. My love com-”

“I’d recommend the jaw,” Eda interrupted, gently hinting at him to take action before she started talking again, that her patience only stretched so far regarding his maker.

He wanted to rip her into mite sized pieces and scatter them at the corners of the Earth. On the contrary, to really saviour this, her death would have to be drawn out, contained. Concluding that he wanted Maria to feel real fear for him, Jasper asked himself which should go first: legs or arms?

Unknowingly making that choice, Maria stretched her arm out to him. Luckily he’d kept his distance, and didn’t have to worry when he snared the back of her wrist, coldly comparing the differences between it and his own. “’Cause of you they call me the God of War, because of what you made me in to.” The cause of so much hopelessness, Maria’s hands were smooth like glass; signs of an easy life, one which had avoided hardships. They didn’t look right in his. His thick scars stuck out in rough twisted ropes, chains laced by her. Others had always taken the beating for her, willingly or not. She and her sisters had dedicated their lives to ruining all of his, and for what?

“It’s so lonely without your presence. Even blood does not begin to compare with your touch.” He could see the way she wanted to flinch, so deeply unsettled by the beast she had moulded him in to. “Mi Major-”

“I’m not your anything.” He felt unclean at the sight of her, and released her wrist. How had he never seen Maria was only poison until he was dragged away? “Lovin’ you was like lovin’ the dead. Don’t fuck with me.”

Eda kept her expression empty, not reacting to the first bad language she’d heard from him. She’d tease him about it later. It could wait. Grabbing the loose wrist, Eda moved her hands to hold Maria’s arms behind her back, yanking them with such a force which would have broke her shoulders if she’d been human. Unfortunate, that Maria was not flesh and bone.

Gawping at the blatant disrespect, Maria barred her teeth at him as her tone went bitter. “Do you know why they call you the God of War?” Jasper tilted his head slightly, expecting to be taunted with the lives he had taken. “You taste of war,” she snickered humourlessly. “You are made of it… War and Death, what a pair.”

Stepping away, he looked to Eda, and in response she put her foot between Maria’s shoulder blades and heaved, ripping both arms off.

They’re flung behind her like trash while Maria fell (half-pushed) face first into the dirt. Keeping her foot on her back, Eda watched Jasper take off Maria’s legs, ripped away at the knees one after the other. Maria writhed and cried, with every limp removed came another dry protest that landed upon unhearing ears.

“Nobody makes it out alive. You told me that once, don’t you remember?” Jasper says to her, dropping the pair of limbs as they step away. “If you can outrun me, I’ll let you live.”

As he watched Maria squirm in the grass like a worm sliced in half, Jasper scoops up Eda’s hand. This felt right. Her hand were as callous as his, as rough. He could feel the seams of her, where she had put herself back together over and over. They did match after all.

“She bit you,” Jasper growled, turning her hand to examine the wound on her wrist. Brushing a kiss just above the mark, he smiled when he heard her let out a relaxed breath. Lifting his head, his eyes went next to her neck, instantly spotting the new scar. It was hardly noticeable unless you knew the pattern, like he did. Kept by her own will, she’d fought on his behalf, determined to see justice be served. He hated it, knowing she’d taken the pain; that she even knew pain existed. A person cannot be rightfully possessed, but if he was going to be anyone’s, he’d be delighted to be hers so he could return the favour.

“I am quite delicious,” she whispered, catching sight of Maria. “It seems she’s a fast learner.”

He followed her gaze, seeing Maria had managed to discover a method of wiggling away. It’s a travesty he had to let go of Eda to stalk towards his maker, but that’s exactly what he did. Eda hung back to spectate as he reaped his revenge, living vicariously through him.

Together they had hunted her, but both had always known Jasper would deliver the final blow. Jasper, mangled and ferocious with eyes sharp and empty at the same time, looking like some forgotten god or reincarnation of Ares, projecting an aura of pure unregulated violence. The murderous glint couldn’t have been utterly foreign. In that fraction of a second, when Jasper looked from Eda to Maria, she surrendered to her fate, and just stopped trying.

“Please, you don’t have to do this,” she practically whimpered at him as he hunched down beside her. There was nothing in her eyes, it was clear she could feel that her thread had run out. You know it’s getting serious when you see the guy named after a rock coming after you. Maria was just stricken that Her Major was indeed coming after her.

Pressing two fingers under her jaw, Jasper lifted her face so she would look at him. “I know.” As Maria smiled up from under her lashes he felt a glimmer of hope coming from her, and grinned back at the new emotion. She shrank away at the sight of his fangs, dazzlingly white and ready. Or at least, she tried to, fixed in place by his other hand seizing her shoulder as he pulled her upright. This was not a display of welcome or greeting or even forgiveness. It was a warning of what was to come. “But I want to.” And Eda had taught him choices were important.

In one last act of helplessness as the mask slipped, Maria looked to Eda as if she would come to her aid after what she had done, pleading, “I don’t want to die!”

“Shhh,” Eda hushed, mockingly tender, knowing she could hear. “I know it hurts. I think you can take it.”

The last thing Maria sees is Jasper rearing back his fist, smiling too widely in anticipation.

Her head implodes, crumbling like a clay toy. The shards fall to the ground and what’s left of her body slumps against his hold.

Moving to grip the stump that remained of her neck, Jasper rips the coat off Maria’s back and shreds it with his bare hands.

Eda said nothing, simply observing the last of his rage be unleashed, admiring their work and making no effort to pretend not to enjoy it. It’s been so long since this part of her was allowed out to roam, repressed and strained like an elastic band. Old habits die hard but some, like hers, came in useful in situations such as these. She held out her hand and Jasper backed away as she sets the corpse alight.

You’d mistake the ash for snow if it weren’t for the embers, the crackling of the fire, and the sickly sweet smoke. Ok, so it’s unlikely- but you could if you held your breath and closed your eyes and plugged your ears.

He surveyed the rags of his uniform for a moment, thinking how his past self would react if someone had told him then what had just occurred. He doesn’t know if he’d believe it. They’re tossed carelessly into the flames and he’s still grinning because he doesn’t feel anything but relief in knowing Maria’s gone.

This was the end of an era in his life. The end of his past coming back to haunt him. The end to being manipulated. The end to being tortured and punished and mistreated and aimed and used.

This was a beginning, the beginning of his future.

Striding over to Eda as she finished throwing Maria's broken parts into the fire, he doesn’t let himself hesitate about cupping her face, focusing as he steals a kiss on her cheek, enchanted as she closed her eyes and turned away shyly.

Today was the beginning of their future.

He beams a little too sadistically at the knowledge that he’s done what whole battalions of newborns couldn’t, all for the low low price of embracing his title. Realistically at some point Jasper had loved Maria like he loved Eda. And he had killed her. However none of that mattered, because when he picked Eda up by her waist and span, Jasper feels nothing except hope as he created mini hurricanes.

Locking her arms around his neck, Eda squeaked into his shoulder. His past was not a threat, it’s what brought him to her. Only when he stopped did she lift her head. Gazing down at him like Jasper was the sole man to ever exist, she choked through laughter, “are you alright cowboy?”

She was beautiful, in the same way a forest fire was beautiful. Formidable, often leaving ruins and destruction behind; and he couldn’t look away. “You’re happy, I’m happy.”

“You’re adorable,” she almost swoons, caressing her thumb over his cheek bone.

To behave so carefree with a monster such as himself, the contrast was positively deafening. She had brought happiness he hadn’t thought was possible. He’s glowing, lips pulled back to reveal his shocking teeth- teeth that had killed and torn people stronger and larger and more powerful than Eda for the simple pleasure of seeing them burn, to hear their tortured sounds; and feels only devotion radiating off of her.

Nevertheless, this wasn’t how Eda wanted to remember their first kiss. Suffocating in the scent of death and the ache in her throat, with stinging on her wrist. Her painted nails served as a reminder of how panicked Alice had been the last time she’d seen her, knowing the girl would be waiting anxiously for them.

She wanted to drown in the scent of Jasper, to be completely devoured until she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began- and right now she could cough over the stench of a burning corpse. “We’d better find Alice,” she tells him, kissing his forehead as he sets her down as if she’d break on impact, smiling when he followed like he was seeing the constellations for the first time.

As they go he glances over his shoulder at the bomb-fire. Not to reminisce or in realisation that he did miss her in some twisted way- to check Maria is swallowed by the flames. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad that he left nothing short of devastation and grief in his wake, if it meant today was the last one Maria would curse the Earth.

////

Alice was pacing with nerves when they exited the woods, and rushed to wrap them both in a hug. Jasper froze as she crashed into them. Having expected the welcome, Eda’s arms were already out to catch her- keeping the pixie from dangling from their necks.

“You will give me a heart attack one day!” She scalded them, letting go and bouncing in place. Eda stuck out her hand to show her the chipped nail polish, earning a horrified gasp. “Eda!”

“Why are you yelling at me? I didn’t ask her to try and eat my hand!”

“Next time don’t run off to kill psychopaths and leave me all alone!” She stomped her foot, and Eda couldn’t contain the snort.

The tiny vampire carried on scowling at her. “What’s the worry Alice? I know you saw we’d be fine before we even came back.”

Her face melted, not sharing exactly how close this version of events had been to being annihilated. “I know but I don’t like it.”

Jasper eased her fretting and Alice’s shoulders dropped. “You could have joined in, no one said you had to stay here,” Eda pointed out gently. “Leg for you, leg for me, arm for Jas. Could have been fun. Could of made a day of it, had a picnic.”

“Seeing it once was enough,” she chastised, flitting away, remembering the many versions she’d seen. How hair splitting the rivalry between the present, and the chance that Maria would return alone had been, smoke bellowing behind her, creeping towards Alice to finish the job.

Shrugging, she smiled easy, acknowledging life was pretty good as Jasper knocked his shoulder into her while Alice’s back was turned. “Next time,” she called, her head falling back with laughter as Alice gawped over her shoulder at her. “Ah suit yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pollito – term of affection meaning “little chicken”.  
> Hasta la próxima vez mi amor – Until we meet again my love  
> I did sneak in a quote from Interview with a Vampire, and Midnight Sun, but damn it was just such a solid piece of writing I couldn’t resist. When I started writing this story I didn’t intend to kill Maria. But as I was writing Swimming, I wrote Eda saying “we could just kill her,” and it was kinda like: yeah… we could just kill her.


	29. We Made it out Alive (Somehow)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never lost a fight but I'm lookin' for a beating - Jasper at some point probably

With Maria dead Alice would soon take her leave, but for time being (at Eda and Jasper's insistence) she agreed to stay just a little longer. They had spent the day playing leap-frogging over one another, making the most of the remaining sunlight. Presently it was almost dusk, and with the dark they had calmed enough to stop chasing each other like flees, moseying along together. Jasper let them have their fun, hanging a little ways back; close enough to bask in their combined orbits but far enough that he probably doesn’t hear their hushed conversation.

“I meant to thank you for your advise, for your help,” Eda stated easily, enjoying the lack of aggravation her visions had been bringing Alice before yesterday. “I do appreciate everything you’ve done.”

For her honesty she received a light prod in the side. “Are you getting soft on me?”

“Always, softer by the day. Give me a few hours and I’ll be jelly… And I’m sorry, again, about wanting to crush your head like a melon.”

“I understand. Personal space, bubbles, boundaries, no touchy, no feely.”

Turning to walk side-on, Eda leaned back to shimmy against her shoulder. “No touching? How could you deprive yourself of a jewel such as me?”

Rolling her eyes and acting as if she wasn’t having fun, Alice wagged a finger at her as she righted her posture. “Looking but no touching.”

“Like a stripper!”

With a giggle, a sound that resembled a tinkering bell, Alice took on a bemused expression. “How do you know what a stripper is?”

“Y’know you’re awfully yappy for someone who said they’d never speak to me again,” Eda supposed, giving nothing away, earning a flicked ear. Alice was made from sugar and sin, and Eda liked it that way.

“Eda!” Jasper called from behind them, gesturing off to the side, and Eda sucked in a breath when she looked where he was pointing.

Darting off, Eda found herself oo-ing and ah-ing as she approached the ruins. It was the foundations, or the skeleton, of a beloved witches castle. Only the front wall, stairs and stone porch was upright, like a broken Hollywood set piece left out in the rain to be reclaimed by Mother Nature. It crouched low into the grassy embankment, as though it were trying to hide, but the misshapen pentagon wall was too large to go unnoticed.

Through the darkness she could see the coarse, unevenly sized grey stones that made up the body; so old and poor it was surprising how it was still standing. And yet it seemed alive and welcoming, embellished with furry green rugs of moss along the banisters and what at first glance appeared to be a window – however she thought it was more likely to have been a disintegrated hole when she vaulted through the gap to get a closer look.

There was an eerily comforting atmosphere about the place, both lush and gothic, right down to the way the ancient railings had turned to hedges. On her way back through the wall, tip-toeing head first through the archway which remained of the door holding steadfast against the elements, Eda uncovered the cavities between the bricks were bustling with life, piled with beetle-browed puddles of weeds. Once the structure had been thoroughly explored (and not a moment before), she observed her companions on the grand slab stairway.

Stretching his legs out, Jasper was sprawled across three steps, leaning back on his elbows. He was humouring Alice’s venting, too polite to clock out. Alice was chattering on a mile a minute, animatedly waving her hands, perched on the hedge opposite him. He was certainly making an effort to actively listen, though it was up for debate if he was truly invested. To be fair Eda didn’t know what she was talking about either, just that she did not like Chanel’s new perfume – whoever that was.

Sneaking the camera from her pocket, Eda snapped a picture of them before they noticed her watching them. They both looked to the sound, and Eda snapped another, shaking her head at Alice’s knowing smile as she pre-emptively posed.

Opening her case on top of the fence, she asked, “if I wrote to Carlisle, would you pass it on for me?” Alice nodded, launching back into her rant. Thinking he looked slightly drained, she quickly got out what she’d need (including his hat), and joined them. Planting it on his head as she passed, Eda sat beside his waist, curling one of her knees up so she could use it as a desk.

Peering over at Jasper in the corner of her eye, Eda saw he was watching her, and that his hat was tilted forward so it hid his expression from Alice. She puffed her cheeks out at him, and caught the wink he sent before he fixed his hat, slightly more enthusiastic about listening to Alice. Beginning the letter was simple enough, though soon found herself stuck and chewing on the pen she’d _borrowed_ from the library.

When Alice had told him about the complexities of Max Factor’s lipstick – no idea who he was either – Eda took her chance to give Jasper’s ear a rest. “Where did you get the hat?”

“I may have broken into a museum.”

“For a hat?”

“You say that like I shouldn’t have.”

“Breaking and entering is a _crime_ Alice,” she sang, arching an eyebrow at the page, laughing at the thought of some sorry son of a bitch Texan Ranger mannequin missing a part of his uniform.

“Like you haven’t done worse. I mean, look at him. He needs the hat.”

Eda did as she was told, turning to Jasper and seeing he was pressing his lips together to hold back a smile at having the spotlight on him. “He does look beau with the hat on doesn’t he?”

He didn’t need to understand French to hear the affectionate intent. “Give it a rest,” he murmured, making a point of keeping his eyes strictly to the hedges.

“You look like a baby bear,” she cooed, enjoying not being the flustered one for once.

Looking to Eda, brows knitted together and the corner of his mouth tugging upwards, not wholly surprised at how sincere she was. “Pardon?”

“You’re so cute.”

Being compared to a baby anything was a world away from the typical likenings to creatures from hell. “... I've slaughtered thousands.”

She smiled sweetly, deciding not to remind him she’d also slaughtered thousands. “I know.”

“I could kill you with one hand,” he said quickly, trying not to even think about it.

She snorted at the idea. “I doubt it, you'd need two to keep a hold of me. I'm slippery and I’m not above fighting dirty.”

Alice hummed in agreement, having been watching the exchange. “You do seem hard to kill.”

“Thank you, I haven’t been killed yet.”

“To your knowledge,” Alice interjected.

“What?”

Jasper’s eyebrows flickered up as he played along. “True, how do you know you aren’t dead already?”

Being ganged up on by a pixie and a cowboy wasn’t what she had anticipated when entering that diner a month ago, but that’s what she was in for as Alice began listing her symptoms. “No pulse, your skins ice cold, sometimes you speak like you’re from a different time, your eyes change colour, you don’t blink very often-”

“I blink plenty-”

Jasper picked up where Alice had been interrupted. “You never eat or drink anythin’, you never go out in the sunlight, you don’t need to breathe.”

“Say it,” she demanded, giggles leaking through her otherwise steady tone.

“Eda,” Alice continued, sounding like she was about to deliver soul crushing news. “I think you might be a zombie.”

Unable to hold back her laughter any longer, she told her offhandedly, “be like a star, distant and dying.”

Alice took the endearment in stride, waving her hand over her hair; her fringe too short to flick it out of her face. “I think you mean bright and beautiful, since that’s what I am.”

“That you are, pixie,” Eda agreed, pulling her attention back the letter to Carlisle, working to find the words to explain the situation to him; how keen she was to see him without sounding desperate. Keep it classy, keep it light, yet not too cold to come off as reluctant. She was thinking too much about this, she decided. Letters were all they had traded in almost two hundred years, why was this blank page suddenly the bane of her existence?

“If you really loved me you would share,” she heard Alice chirp.

“I am not known for my ability to share.” Although her eyes were glued to the paper, her mind was centred on his slightly harsh response, pretending she hadn’t heard- despite being within arms reach (never mind ear shot) of them both. “Besides, isn’t the sayin’ the more the merrier?” He added in a subtly synthetic smoky tone. Maybe she was reading too far into it, but it sounded like Eda wasn’t the only one having issues keeping it light, keeping it classy. Torn between maintaining flowing conversation with Alice, knowing it was truly just a joke, yet trying not to reveal too much of his own feelings by speaking about her indirectly. This wasn’t a mimicry of her own flirty banter, this was an effort to keep things from becoming too personal, knowing he had already said too much. What a dork.

“You’re not my type- which reminds me, this is where Peter and Charlotte live.” Utterly unbothered and as cheery as ever, Alice handed him a pink note, presumably with an address written on it. “You were going to ask me in a few months so I looked them up.”

Thanking her, Jasper took the note gingerly, stuffing it in his pocket, unsure if he was ready to contact them. Shoving away the embarrassment at his admittedly uncharacteristic clumsiness to avoid seeming possessive, because that wasn’t his intention, Jasper forced his mind to narrow to his brother and sister. “They feed on humans. I doubt they’d be welcome for a social call.” He was already testing his luck alone, and fully banked on having to tell at least one of the five vampires to get off their high horses regarding his newness to the diet.

“They should go to Seattle beforehand. It’s unclaimed. Good herd,” Eda told him under her breath, successfully keeping how delighted she was at the prospect of finally meeting his friends under wraps. “The diet shouldn’t bother the Cullen’s. They couldn’t feed in Forks anyways.”

“Why?” Jasper asked, making her look up.

“The treaty with the shape shifters,” Eda began, putting down her pen, her letter forgotten as she continued, “the Cullen's signed a treaty in ‘36-”

“1936?” Alice gasped, and Eda nodded slowly, growing more puzzled by the second at the unfamiliar confused expression. “I couldn’t see anything the family was doing for weeks that year...”

Jerking her head back , Eda struggled with the reality that Alice did in fact hold inconclusive knowledge. “You couldn’t?”

“No…” Alice screwed the side of her face up, coming to the same conclusion. “My powers have been having black outs ever since.” Judging by her fading out of conversation (and the present) she thought Alice was spiralling into some existential crisis as she became fixated on empty space in the distance.

The mention of shape shifters and treaty's, paired with the discovery that there were apparently blind spots in Alice’s visions set off all kinds of alarms in Jasper’s head. If she’d been with the Cullen's for as long as he’d known Eda, surely she should know something so crucial to their survival. “What does the treaty say?” A potential battle over territory with their natural enemy didn’t fit with the idea he’d had about what a life in suburbia would bring.

Reluctantly tearing her eyes away from the sceptical that was their alienated pixie, Eda cleared her throat to keep her voice clear of astonished disbelief. “That they can’t feed on or bite a human in town.”

“And if they went against it?”

“The treaty would be void and the wolves would kill-”

“The Quileutes!” Alice burst unexpectedly, and Eda grunted in confirmation, beyond uneasy at being the one answering her questions. “They mentioned the boundaries of their territories with the Quileutes but they didn’t say it happened in 1936.”

“It was a stressful time.” Carlisle’s letters had been disjointed, bordering on senseless where he’d been pulled between the hospital and maintaining the peace; not at all the essays of worship regarding Esme she usually received. “Lots of decisions had to be made, lots of talks and council meetings.” And wasn’t that precisely what Alice’s visions showed?

Still reeling from the potential threat of being killed, Jasper sat up to hover beside Eda, reiterating, “you didn’t see any of it?” Sensing the blend of elation and frustration signalling Alice was genuinely having a moment of self discovery, he instead called into question the character of Carlisle. Working together with shape shifters was unheard of; psychotic. The most obvious answer only reinforced his worries of an army, and his suspicions about all three of them being unknowingly recruited. He looked to Eda, remembering their conversation a few days ago.

The first sign of trouble he’d kill them all, Cullen or wolf, whoever started it. At least now he understood the need for such a large coven: to compete with the shape shifters, or not compete rather. It’d be a waste of time to debate it with Eda at this moment, because she only knew what Carlisle had told her, and while he did trust her judgement, he didn’t yet know if Carlisle was worthy of her praise. The Quileutes sounded like reasonable enough people. Complying with their laws would benefit him too, depending where these boarders lay. The realm of what was possible had already been stretched with the animal blood, this was almost too far. He would have to see for himself what the Cullen's were doing.

Alice shook her head, not acknowledging either of them. “Maybe I can only see what I’ve been?” For the time being Jasper focused on her disillusioned mutterings, how resentfully small she sounded. “I’ve been a human, and I can see their futures ok. I’m a vampire now, and I see our kinds futures even clearer. Maybe I can’t see what I haven’t been.”

“You know more than us,” Eda said, shrugging, guessing this wasn’t something for them to understand as much as it was Alice trying to make sense of things as she got lost in space.

The note in was burning a hole in Jasper's pocket, and he could think of little else as they went about their own actions.

His excuse of not knowing where Peter and Charlotte resided had been blown out of the water, and he blinked away the sickening feeling he’d felt when Maria had implied she’d murdered them. He needed to talk to them, if only to apologise for his absence and inform them of the death of their creator, to be certain they were alive. The wars in the South must either be hopelessly pitiful or on the rise for Maria to come after him personally. Would they forgive him if he phrased it just right, that he’d killed her as a show of seeking forgiveness? No, it would be better to be honest, that he’d done it for himself and his own piece of mind. They probably wouldn’t believe any other version anyway. Outside of his atoning of feeding on humans and his service in the Civil war, remorse wasn’t a shade Charlotte particularly would link in correlation to him.

A faint gust of wind aimed directly at the side of his head made him turn, and through the tassels of the hair now in his face he saw Eda beaming at him. Without meaning to he’d edged closer, and he’d come out of his thoughts with inches between her shoulder and the centre of his chest. After a moment he took note of her holding a sealed envelope up to show him a lady bug that’d landed on it, could hear the patter of its feet as it gradually carrying out its own tiny exploration, unaware of the vampires just at the edge of its paper world.

A finger tip pressed into the centre of her spine, becoming two, then three. Eda felt him sampling the emotions around her, testing if this was ok. He must have found what he was searching for because soon his whole palm sat on her back, and she repressed the warm chill that came with it as it migrated upwards, settling on her shoulder blade.

She stopped seeing the insect when his hand drifted down again, coming to a stop spread across the bottom of her ribs, like for his next trick it was going to wrap around her front. He wouldn’t, and she knew he wouldn’t, but the thought was fun to imagine.

A slow smile greeted her when she peeked at him, hinting at his amusement as her orbit preformed the equivalent to skipping a beat. Jasper was completely keyed into her reaction to him, to his touch, finding himself forgetting he would live beyond today. He was still getting used to the idea he was allowed to touch her so causally; without reason or purpose, just to touch her, that she liked it.

The lady bug flew away, not that Eda noticed, too preoccupied thinking about how his eyes were starting to resemble rum which had been sprayed with paprika. Two more meals, or three, and they’d probably be the same as hers.

One of his fingers began leisurely tapping, thinking it’d be unlikely she’d recognise the pattern: her name in morse code, over and over. The reaction he expected was confusion, at the very least some mild annoyance at the repetition. It felt similar to writing in a diary, a small release of his thoughts. What he didn’t account for was her sliding her hand over to his, tapping her own message onto the side of his thumb.

_(Yes)_

Instantly his eyes widened into that tunnel vision he sometimes got, and she pulled her lips between her teeth to keep in her laughter as the tapping went high-speed.

_(Why didn’t you tell me)_

_(Never asked)_

All this time they could have been talking freely, though of course they could communicate efficiently already, what with Jasper's gift and her overcompensating for his supernatural awareness. This was true secrecy, in an innocently naughty sort of way, uniquely theirs- unless someone else knew morse code, then they were fucked.

She wondered if he was aware he’d curled himself around her, deciding he probably wasn’t, that he was much too shy about keeping things private to do it consciously. It was prof enough that Alice would be unable to see his hand on her back, that this was the closest he’d gotten since that day he brought her the feather. Indulging herself, and deciding he could stand being pushed out of his shell a little, Eda reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

It was a war in itself to keep his eyes open when the pad of her finger trailed along his jaw as she withdrew, replacing her finger on the side of his thumb. Jasper's other hand was suddenly heavier than before as it sunk down to the small of her back, fighting to resist his famously weak self control which was screaming at him to go further. Eda matched his gaze, locking him in a stare out, shifting to lean her shoulder against his chest, feeling his breath hike as the intensity gathered along the shortening bridge between their faces, candidly daring each other to take up the challenge; and neither thinking the other would. They were teasing each other, seeing how far they would go to win. What would shatter first: Jasper's reserved nature, or her competitive streak?

“Do you ever feel like you’re being watched?” He whispered, bringing her out of her daze, and Eda grinned as she heard the breeziness hiding just how close he’d been to giving in.

That pesky, no good, perverted, button eyed, sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong pixie! “Constantly. When you look this good, you get used to it.” She turned to Alice, oddly comforted that the smug smirk had made a return, unashamed to admit the higher pitch of her voice. “Don’t you have to be a peeping Tom somewhere else?”

“Not until five.”

Glancing to the sky, Eda thought she’d say it was about four o'clock now. “So soon?”

“It’s Halloween tomorrow, I have a party to organise!” She jumped down from the ledge, vibrating in fevered vigour as though the steps were hot coals. “I’ve still got to get Edward into a snail costume.”

From what she’d heard (and read) Eda imagined young Edwin to be a very broody, puritan little emperor. She doubted immeasurably that he did in fact like snails enough to allow himself to be dressed as one – not that such an insignificant detail would stop Alice, obviously. “A snail?”

She nodded, set in dressing up the Cullen’s. “He likes snails.”

Knowing nothing and no one could keep Alice, Eda begrudgingly passed over the letter to her waiting hand, brushing off the thought of if Carlisle had entertained her calling him Dr Damn for three consecutive Halloween's.

“I’ll see you in a few days,” Alice said. “Even though you could just come with me- but I know you won’t, you pair of love birds!” Evidently she was holding herself back.

Standing (and trying her best to ignore the tingling absence of Jasper) Eda opened out her arms and flexed her fists at her in a _gimme_ motion, laughing as Alice whooped and pounced. “See you around pixie,” Eda vowed, returning the embrace, resting her chin on the top of her head, pondering how would Alice fair re-entering the Cullen's territory when she couldn’t see the wolves. Probably just as well as she’d exited it. Maternal feelings, shudder.

Having stood at the same time, Jasper watched the involuntary protective posture, and let himself smile when they separated and Alice turned to him. He braced for the hug, and couldn’t help chuckling when she stuck out her hand. Grinning, he shook it. “Don’t be a stranger now,” he said to her.

Eda beamed at them, happy that Jasper had warmed up to Alice and at how ridiculous they looked. There had to be at least seventeen inches between them. Completely insane. Alice might as well have been a little doll beside him.

“No less than a week!” Alice warned as she began flitting away, pointing to them both seriously. “A week is seven days, that means you’ll be there in less than seven days, which is less than a week.”

“We promise,” Eda chanted. “Less than a week. We get it.”

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” she yelled over her shoulder.

“How can we?” Eda shouted, ensuring to squeeze these last drips of irritation out of the girl before she dashed out of sight. “You’re taking all the stupid with you.” It was nice, saying goodbye to a friend and knowing for certain she'd see them again.

“Are you by any chance missing a marble?”

“Why? It’s not as if you’ve found yours.”

She stopped, slowly turning with narrowed eyes. “I’ll get you, and I’ll make it look like an accident.” In response Eda blew her a kiss, and to her delight got one back. “Bye guys!” Waving excitedly, Alice ran away in a blur.

It was tranquil for a moment, and they stood listening to the scuttling of insects, the good-nights of birds, the sounds of leaves falling to the ground. It was peaceful without the pixie’s jabbering, though it became clear Eda would never know peace again when her view was blocked by the hat being set lowly on her head.

“So, less than a week?” Jasper started, picking up her hand and laughing as she swung them, letting her lead them blindly down the stairs.

She’d missed this. As much as she adored Alice, she had to admit she had been a massive cockblock these past few days. She had grown to like being alone – she wouldn’t have survived had she not – but at some point spending time with Jasper had become just as revitalising. Tipping the hat out of her eyes and seeing he’d picked up her case, Eda proposed an idea to reinstate their regularly scheduled high jinx. “How’s about a detour?”

“A detour?” He echoed slowly in mock disbelief, already game for whatever she was planning. “But we have to be in Forks in less than a week, less than seven days if you can believe it.”

“We’ll be there in eight. Alice knows it, I know it, you know it. She’s just impatient.” She had missed this Jasper, the one who laughed loudly and spoke softly. Would he behave this way when they arrived at the Cullen's or would he withdraw back into his shell? How she longed for the first option, despite knowing how unlikely it’d be. He was a quiet man, the kind that allowed only a few behind his walls, and she predicted that while they’d find their rhythm with the Cullen's eventually, it would not be a smooth blend.

“Where to darlin?” However, with Jasper's hand in hers and a smile on both their faces, Eda was determined to savour the time before then.

Sure she'd made mistakes when she was younger. But now she was older she'd learned how to make different, often far more devious mistakes. “I’m in the mood to make bad life choices.”

“I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come the fuck on Steph! Alice had been living around the pack for like 20 years and didn’t figure out she couldn’t see shape shifters yet Self-Insert Bella Swan™ goes and diagnoses that shit in like 3 months? Y’all for real? There should be other things more unrealistic in a book series about vampires who glitter in the sunlight. Meet me at 3am in the parking lot of the closest Ihop and I’ll deck you. No need to re-write your book for the 5th goddamn time, I’ll fight you to the death for the low low price of silence


	30. The Woman Before Eve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The click pen was actually invented in 1950, but let's pretend it was invented in 1948. I won’t rat if you don’t.
> 
> Now it’s time for one of the seven deadly sins! :)

Immediately they had circled back, recovering the travelling carnival they’d passed upon entering Washington, and set about devising their plan.

Perhaps Eda had gone a little astray in regards to costumes, although in her defence only Jasper was around at the time and he didn’t tell her no. There had always been just one option in Eda’s mind when it came to what they should dress up as: vampires. Throughout the previous night they ransacked a couple of stores to build their outfits, leaving the money on the counter, of course.

Currently they were deep in the woods on the edge of the fair changing into their costumes, having waited until the moon was high and the children had gone home to save Jasper becoming overwhelmed with the high emotions; and proximity to humans.

He hadn’t complained about the costume, secretly enjoying the sophisticated tackiness. Any disliking he might have mounted to the cliché of it all had been over shadowed by Eda’s several crippling hysterics about the irony, and he hadn’t been able to find the will to stop her. Understanding he still had some measure of self respect to uphold, she had made an effort to make his costume more formal wear, and gave him a white shirt and a black three piece suit with midnight blue velvety lapels. Very swish.

“I’ve never celebrated Halloween before,” Jasper admitted, fastening his cufflinks.

“Re menr,” she garbled, gagging around the plastic teeth before carefully taking them out. “Me neither,” she repeated, wincing in disgust when she found her own venom had begun dissolving the flimsy plastic.

“And what am I meant to be?”

“Come on Jas,” she groaned with a grin, knowing he’d probably already long taken off the hat. “Cowboy vampire.”

“It’s unrealistic is what it is darlin, the horses would never settle.”

“Think what you’d save on sheepdogs.”

“That’s true, but I ain’t wearin’ the hat.” She let out a protesting whine, and Jasper continued, a smile in his voice, “it’s too windy. It’ll blow off.”

Eager for the fun tonight's opportunity to relax the human façade would bring, Eda shrugged. “Alright, fair enough.” She’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t nervous for what would be their third outing where mortals would be guaranteed. She’d already taken them hunting less than an hour before and there were no other precautions she could take so reminded herself he was getting better.

It had been a pleasant surprise when Jasper had come away from the hunt with only drips around his chin, that he was no longer so frenzied; that he knew no one was going to try and take his meal away from him. It was a small thing, and she didn't mention it; and if he noticed the brief rage she felt towards Maria, for what she'd done, he didn't mention it either.

“You can turn around by the way.” All thoughts were struck down as she pulled the cape around her, looking over her shoulder at Jasper while he did as he was told.

She’d been less picky about her own costume, although the gown itself was the usual knee length, with long flowy sleeves, made from fabrics in rich black and tasteful red lace. It’d been mislabelled as a Victorian vampire, despite it being nothing of the sort. Antiquated silhouettes meet modern chic, as Alice would say, regarding the false semi functional corset. Also a fun cape (originally it had been his, though it had made its way to her) which fell around her waist; red on the inside, black on the outside, and definitely a plus.

Realising he was openly gawping, Jasper ripped his eyes away, remembering the many nights his momma had spent reading the bible at him when he was a boy. Though if it really counted as worshipping a false idol when she was right in front of him could be anyone’s guess.

His head whipped back to her at the feel of hands lightly tugging on his bow tie.

“They say All Hallows Eve is the one night a year the undead can come out to play among the mortals,” she said softly, pinching the smile building, hoping beyond hope he was getting the hint as she met his gaze. “What do you say cowboy? Wanna play?”

It took a second for the words to sink in, and as they did a small smirk appeared. “Yes ma’am.”

Letting her hands fall away, she stepped down from her case before picking it up from the ground, pretending she wasn’t mentally screaming as she took the hat from his slack grip. “Then let’s play.”

She hid her case at the top of a tree for safe keepings, and despite her best efforts the hat was locked inside. The camera had made the rounds to Jasper’s pocket, determined to sneak a picture when he wasn’t looking.

///

Theodosia was chewing a piece of sherbet candy, thinking she should really be packing up shop. It’d been a prosperous Halloween, and many curious folk had inquired about palm readings, tarot cards, and the other mystical (not quite) magical services the sign outside her tent advertised. She’d even whipped out her crystal ball a couple times. But now the night was drawing to a close and not a soul had entered for the past quarter of an hour.

If you braved the disheartening yet waterproof green and red striped cover, you’d have to jungle your way through a tunnel of draping silk and satin into the interior of striking purple collage of jaguar spots. Her tent was one of the first visitors to the carnival would stumble across if they followed the fairy lights strung from poles around the path, and not to toot her own horn or anything, but Theodosia thought hers was one of the most inviting.

“Howdy,” a feminine voice, solid and husky, called suddenly.

Choking on the candy as she saw two phantoms at the door, one a woman and one a man, Theodosia hurriedly stashed away the rest of her snacks before studying her clients, clearing her throat to stop herself from coughing.

They were perfectly angelic, but so was Lucifer.

Examining them individually made her instincts go haywire. Watching them together was worse. Everything about them made blaring sirens go off in Theodosia's mind, something both human-like and distinctly not. They were almost human, almost being the key word. There was just something uncanny valley about them. Appearing in some degree of pain, the man was conducting a visual inspection of her tent. It might have been her imagination, but he wasn’t breathing. His opposite could be found in the woman, who appeared sincerely ecstatic, discretely sniffing the air and glancing inquisitively to the bundle of sage previously used to cleanse the space with. It hadn’t been lit since the last patron. The smell must have been more powerful than she thought.

“Greetings!” Theodosia cried, recovering quickly and engulfed by a sense of tranquillity, giving some order to her mind.

“We’ve come to see what the cards say,” the woman spoke again.

“Ah! Of course.” She knew she should be worried. “Please, sit.” On the contrary, for the life of her Theodosia was actually extraordinarily calm; physically couldn’t muster up the emotions to feel anything else. It’s probably why she thought nothing of it when the man stood like a dark shadow at the door with his arms behind his back while the woman approached. A more naive person would say he was guarding it, and regardless of how much she wanted to believe it was to keep things out, intuition told her it was to keep her from bolting.

“I am Theodosia. I will be your spiritual guide for the night.” The pitch was rehearsed, already said countless times, so she focused on shuffling her cards. “Now, before we begin I must warn you what the cards tell me is subjective, and can be up for speculation.” Finished laying a random three on the table, Theodosia popped up her head to check her guests, finding the woman had sat without making so much as a peep, and was spectating the display. “To see the future, we must first see the past,” she chanted, flipping the first card. It revealed a grim reaper with a scythe in hand, donned in red and white roses. The woman’s eyebrows flickered up in surprise, intrigued. “Don’t panic,” Theodosia reassured, waving her hand and letting out a practiced airy giggle. “It’s a symbol of changes. The death card signifies spiritual transformation, new beginnings. Have you been through personal changes in your life, any journeys, recently?”

“One or two...”

She said nothing else, so the show persisted. “Now for the present.” Pausing for dramatic effect, Theodosia flipped the second card.

Death.

Death?

But how? The first card had been death, how was that even possible? “Well that’s… unexpected.” The man didn’t react when she frowned over at him, and neither did Theodosia, turning back to the woman, remembering to recite her lines, to which the woman listened to attentively. “It’s important to release things that are holding us back, whether they be negative emotions, beliefs...” She covered the side of her face to obstruct the man’s view before mouthing, “relationships.”

Humming to show she was listening, her smile widening, the woman asked, “Theodosia, are you from Massachusetts?” The way she said her name, it made her pray they weren't the frae, that they didn't now own her soul.

“Um…” She couldn’t stop herself from frowning deeper, wondering if this was the beginnings of a witch from Salem joke. “No, I’m not.”

“It was a long time ago I suppose.” The woman shrugged, unfazed.

Shaking her head slightly, not understanding, Theodosia slid her nail under the third card. “What was?”

“The first time I was there,” she said plainly with a knowing expression, like she was missing something. Something everyone already knew, everyone with exception to Theodosia seemingly. It wasn’t mocking. It was more the face you make when you tell children simple truths such as why is grass was green, or the sky is blue.

“One of those faces,” she reasoned, eager to carry on so they’d leave.

Her hand froze half way through turning the card at the sound of her pondering, “Barton, is it?” Unable to do much else through the shock, Theodosia forced her eyes to lift heavily to watch as the woman pulled up her sleeves and crossed her arms on the table to lean forwards in rapt attention.

Her grandmother’s maiden name had been Barton, the first person in Theodosia's family to move out of Massachusetts after a long line of rooted ancestry. Her grandmother used to say the Barton’s had been in Massachusetts since before Salem had a name, descended from a so called witch who had escaped during the famous trials and returned years later. Nonsense. “Wha…?” In the dim candle light intended to create ambiance for her clients it was Theodosia who had a chill raking up her spine at the sight of the textured, blurry skin of the woman's arms. There wasn’t a blemish in sight, but seeing the skin, it was wrong. It was something she wasn’t meant to see; wasn’t seeing. Something wasn’t registering. What wasn't she seeing?

Narrowing her eyes in amusement, the woman pursed her lips in a failed effort to control her grin, now clearly harbouring a silver tongue. “Your last name.” Caging her in a never ending stare, flashing teeth too bright as she gave up trying to hide her merriment, the woman couldn’t be more earnestly enthralled. Her eyes, brown and earthy, similar to a new copper penny, infinitely imprisoned Theodosia. They were… paler, than they had been when she first arrived. Liquidly, and unblinking.

“How are you doing that?” Why wasn’t she blinking? How hadn’t she blinked the whole time she’d been here? How had neither of them blinked since entering the tent?

Unconcerned by her own abnormality, the woman replied on the side of friendly conversation, “you look familiar.”

Without conscious thought Theodosia herself blinked to overcompensate, and the woman tilted her head – not like a normal person would – like her neck had given way and she’d caught it when it was at a 45 degree angle; as though her upper spine had broken. She seemed to be contemplating her, and then the woman briefly shut her eyes. Theodosia considered the behaviour for a moment, blinking again to test a barely there hypothesis that she was doing this on purpose. Like a robot the woman blinked right back at her. Mimicking. Calculating.

“Have we met?” She burst, needing to find a rational thought in the chaos.

“No.” She offered nothing else in ways of explanation, as though it was obvious. And it was. She would have remembered encountering these people before (if that’s even what they were). They would haunt her nightmares.

Sensing something was deeply wrong, Theodosia looked to her companion, not comforted by the lopsided closed lipped smirk; or the continued lack of breath from him. Was this some kind of-

The thought cut itself off, the suspicion gone as quick as it appeared. The fastest way of getting them out was to give them what they wanted. “And now for the most exciting, the future!” She flipped the last card, not understanding why her hands weren’t trembling.

Death, again.

She didn’t even have three decks. How was there three cards of the same type laid on her table?

The sound of a snort drew her attention to the woman. In her peripheral vision she saw the man was half censoring his face as though he was itching his nose.

What were the cards trying to tell her?

Her face fell as she took in what they were dressed as. “Vampires…” she thought aloud at a volume they shouldn’t have been able to hear with another wavy giggle, edging on self comforting rather than forced pleasantries. “What dazzling costumes.”

“Undeniably,” the woman replied smoothly.

The statement hung in the air and again their eyes met, before a strange sound came from the far end of the tent; an almost silent gust of wind, a wordless murmuring. None of the curtain walls moved, but the woman’s head did. She’d heard it too. It made her expression brighten unnaturally.

“Thank you, for your insight Theodosia.” Seemingly pulled on a wire and resembling a marionette, the woman stood and turned, skipping off to reunite with her companion, heading briskly for the door in unison. They leave in peace, and she couldn’t be anything other than grateful that they had; without payment or not.

When she lost sight of them the unexplainable haze was gone and Theodosia felt the colour drain from her face, thinking over the impossible as her heart began to hammer frantically in their absence.

“You two, you will bring only blood.” She heard Maggs’ shrill croak from outside, likely jabbing in their general direction with her arthritis riddled finger.

“We’re just a couple of vampires,” a gruff voice, like the creaking of gallows chains, rasped.

The woman tagged on through the beginnings of a hearty laugh, “yeah, we have souls too.”

Nonsense, pure nonsense, Theodosia thought with a shake of her head. Vampires weren’t real, and unquestionably wouldn't parade around as such a blaring proclamation as dressing as themselves for Halloween. It was just two teenagers playing an outstandingly well developed prank. They’d probably sell the same tale to everyone they met tonight.

///

Harold was respectably tipsy- ok a teensy weensy more than tipsy- and fighting the good fight at hook-a-duck. Having gotten over the dazzling effect they’d had on him, he wasn’t paying much attention to the couple (a man and a woman in vampire get ups) standing at what you could call 2 o’clock to him, also playing at the stall. He was too focused on trying to utilise his shaky hands to put much thought towards the stark contrast of their fluent movements.

Initially Harold had labelled them as a solider and his sweetheart, before noticing they were far too young. That couldn’t be right, so he reasoned the man’s rigid posture to aloofness. One thing Harold could be absolutely certain of was that the man was titanically handsome. So flawless, so bewitching, you can't imagine. You had only to be near him to be taken. It was automatic.

The girl’s face was shroud in mystery (she had yet to even squint in Harold’s direction), and her form was hidden behind a cape, though he anticipated nothing less than divinity. A man like that would only have a goddess of similar beauty on his arm.

Regardless, Harold was engrossed in day dreaming about the tuna casserole he’d had over at the Robinson's, wishing they cooked it at the BBQ planned in two days time this coming Tuesday. Harold had been neighbours with them for round about sixteen years. Their families were such good friends that they'd had dinner together at least once a month for the last decade. The dessert the month before had been simply to die for. After the meals had been ravaged they’d carried out a fancy multi layered Jell-O cake; the first tier being raspberries, the second being prawns and the third being thick circles of pineapple- and in the hour there’d hardly been anything to call scraps. It’d been scrumptious, leaving him practically salivating at the memory.

What did grab his attention was the unexpected movement of the hooked end of the man’s stick jerking upwards, the splash of a duck as it fell suddenly to the water.

“Wow Jas, I’ve never known such a clumsy vampire before,” the girl said with false surprise.

Fondly shaking his head at the apparent inside joke, Jas appeared relatively jolly, attempting to score the same duck.

They were having a competition, both with an arm folded behind their backs, holding their sticks in one hand. The girl watched him, making mumbled sounds of cheering encouragement. When he got close to hooking the duck she leaned closer- and knocked her elbow down into his pole again. The other end jolted up, almost hitting the attendant though Jas caught it in time. Gasping rushed apologises at the bored and unbothered teen, the girl dipped her head, shoulders shaking in stifled laughter as Jas peered down at her, the gleam of a crooked smile betraying he was having equal amounts of fun.

At the puppy love Harold couldn't help chuckling, and Jas (without moving his head) looked over at him.

He looked at him with such absolute, poorly contained rage, Harold unconsciously took a step in retreat. It wasn’t as if Jas wanted him dead. It was the same quiet confidence held by a tiger which, upon settling in for a nap, had spotted a baby antelope. He wasn’t glaring or scowling, merely observing him, checking he was keeping his distance. Harold was no threat to him, and that made him even more afraid; the humble knowledge that Jas knew who would win. That knowledge spoke a thousand words, made him think the only reason he was still alive at all was because Jas allowed it. He was tempted to run to a pay phone to report finding the Acid Bath Murderer, or to call the closest asylum. Anyone, fucking anyone, who would take this maniac away from the general public- away from him.

In quick succession the girl glanced over her shoulder to see what he was staring at. Harold couldn’t even make out her expression it was so fast, so forced himself to shift his weight to his other foot to make out the edge of her face.

“Earth to cowboy,” she quipped in such an endeared tone, as though he’d began to juggle apples for her enjoyment, as if he’d put the stars in the sky for her. Harold would go as far as to say she gazed up at him in the same fashion from what little he could see. It became clear then, that she had the centre of her universe safely at her side.

Nevertheless, Harold had the impulse to clear his ears. Who was she calling cowboy? Was she insane? Could she not see her so called cowboy was planning on killing him, or her, or anyone, just someone tonight?

At the sound of her voice Jas looked back to her, and in that moment Harold was over powered by the return of the fondness, unparalleled by anything he’d ever felt. Not understand the switch, Harold yanked his attention to the ducks.

What the fuck was that? Was this some voyeuristic kink?

Harold pointedly ignored them as they ribbed each other; otherwise oblivious to them whacking sticks and stealing ducks right out of hooks, testing their skill in who could make the biggest nuisance of themselves. It was impossible to work out who was winning (or what winning was), both obviously already honed their craft down to a T. Moreover, neither exhibited a fraction of irritation; if anything they were only getting more relaxed as the game went on.

A twanging noise made Harold look up to see the girl’s stick flying through the air. He become bewildered when she sent an affectionate glare at Jas and caught it in her other hand without so much as a peek its way. Hauling his eyes away from the girl, he saw Jas gazing down at her, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing and apparently not having noticed the acrobatic reflexes.

For her efforts the girl received a teddy bear, and while she accepted it with sincere gratitude, frowned at the toy with distaste once the attendants back was turned. Not in a snooty sort of way, more confused. She didn’t understand why she’d been given it. What had she expected from playing at the fair?

The man began tapping on the counter. Morse code. Was he mute?

Whatever he said the girl understood, and she rolled her eyes. “What use have I got for a toy?” He tapped something else, and was adoringly chastised, “I can’t throw it away.” He tilted his head at her. “I’ve opened this can of worms, now I’ve got to lay in it.” There was more tapping, to which she said, completely serious, “why would you make a bed _then_ lay in it, that’s ridiculous.”

Soon Jas was awarded a bear as well, or rather leaned away from it, swallowing harshly, allowing the girl to take it on his behalf. Harold’s vision was obscured by the attendant, but he was positive Jas lifted his stare to the boy’s neck area, leering at him as if he was nothing more than an oversized can of coca-cola on a blistering day. Was he some germophobe, one who hated germs rather than feared them, Harold wondered.

They chattered then in their not quite one-sided manner for several minutes (not that he was earwigging), discussing where to go next.

Meanwhile Harold was given his third grade prize: a pen. It was preferable to the middle ground of bouncy rubber balls, though honestly he longed for neither. Absent mindedly fiddling with his pen as he renewed his watched the couple, Harold clicked the cap, and the girl’s head snapped to it, eyes wide and bright, both empty and brimming with glee. For the first time he was made to endure a view of her full face, and took another step away.

His initial thought was not to call her beautiful, or divine or even exotic. She was terrifying, spooky. Like a vexed sprit the moment before they snap, that wide eyed excited expression when they spot their next victim- and her next victim was his hands, the pen. He didn’t want that pen no more. It was cursed. He wanted it out of his presence, and she was only too ready to oblige.

The pair shared a glance before she half galloped round the stall, moving swiftly yet in slow motion, and then she was in front of him holding up both their bears, and all speculations were halted before Harold could apply additional thought to it.

“What would you say to a trade?”

Why she wanted the pen Harold didn’t know, though he wordlessly held it out to her, eyeballing the hand as she took it. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for her to do. It was doubtful she’d attack in such a public space. Although the people around the carnival were spotted at best, and the most optimistic outcome was three people witnessing any suspicious activity. Without complaint he accepted the bears, clinging to them as if their cotton innards could defend him if she did manifest his trepidation.

“Pleasure doing businesses with you,” she said with a wink, not in an effort to be seductive, purposely tormenting him to be sure, indeed taking great pleasure in it. She knew she was up to no good, and she was relishing in it. Before he could launch any meaningful conspiracies the girl had pranced away and re-joined the man.

He saw double as her thumb clicked the pen, creating a rapid, almost undetectable grating as the mechanics did their utmost to keep up. He expected the fearsome seeming Jas to be annoyed, to snatch it from her. Instead he tilted his head at it in similar, subtler fascination.

To Harold’s confusion as they strolled away he heard her announce, “remarkable…”

What was so remarkable about a pen? Maybe they were aliens. Maybe he should be wearing a tin foil hat, it was cold this Halloween.

She gave the pen to Jas, watching as he began spinning it, flicking his wrist to toss it in the air; showing off.

At the speed of sound he’d clicked the point out, and was attempting to draw on her face. Her hand was a blur as it swatted at his, only for her elbow to be caught by him at the same speed as he tugged her back to him so he could try again. Squeaking, she squirmed to escape in a fit of giggles, twirling away though never straying far, and Harold was dumbfounded at the realisation of just how tenderly he’d been holding her.

Rubbing his eyelids and beginning the trek home, Harold made a pact with god to never drink on Halloween for as long as he would live.

///

They play a shooting game next, Jasper handling the gun with care and habit. He examined it, attempting to adjust the sights only to find they were glued in place. Though dissatisfied with the condition of his not-weapon, he hit a bullseye on the first try, uttering to himself, “still got it.”

Eda didn’t need to be an empath to feel the pride coming off of him. Understanding exactly what he was talking about, Eda doesn’t inform him his spot on aim was also a result of being a vampire and declined playing as to not remind him.

Instead she tugged him towards the carousel, only stopping when they were stood between two fake horses, glossy to the point of reflecting psychedelic displays from the blobs of glitzy lights on the ceiling.

“Ma’am, I think this where I draw the line.”

“Noooo,” she cried through laughter, undeterred and straddling a horse. It’s only through vampirism does the motion appear fluid. While her dress was forgiving enough that there wasn’t any uncomfortable bridging action, her legs weren’t long enough to thread through the metal rings like intended, so she settled for tip-toeing on top of them.

Jasper took in the sight of her: grinning down at him, radiating impish certainty, awaiting the continuation of play. “You really want me on a horse?”

“Well I don’t think you’re allow to stand on this ride.” When he doesn’t move she put her hands on her hips. “Either giddy up, or get-y off.”

You should know by now Jasper’s got a bit of a running bet with himself: that he’s about the only person able to make her flustered, to cox out that bashfulness. He weighed it up, and decided to test his theory once and for all.

It’s the concealed smirk which alerted her tonight was going to go off the rails. Then and there, Eda knew he was about to cause an ungodly amount of mischief. She doesn’t have chance to ask what the plan is before he’s striding towards her, putting his boot through the metal ring, swinging over his leg and taking his seat, planting himself right behind her.

Barely a second had passed, and she’s only aware of the tightening in her chest, the twisting in her stomach, her faint gasp as his knees slot against the back of hers, nudging them forwards so they’re no longer dangling, then upwards. She stared off at the spot he once stood, not sure if this was actually happening.

It’s nerve racking, to allow someone so close where she couldn’t see. It’s unfamiliar, having always abided by the law of never turning your back on your enemy. But Jasper was the exact opposite of her enemy, so she’s willing to acclimatise. She could feel him everywhere, his breath, his legs behind hers… actually that’s about it. Somehow he still wasn’t touching her - with exception to their legs firmly tucked together, and even then they were separated by fabric.

Jasper's face entered her vision as he bowed his head to meet her gaze. He knew he was on the right track when he saw her pupils were blown wide open. There was hardly any toffee amber left, and what a view it was.

“Ready?” She more felt than heard him ask, the word washing over her face.

Swallowing in a mix of anticipation and nerves, he waited for the embarrassment to set in as she remembered where she was, who she was with, for a fond remark calling to an end to his fun, to see that puffy cheeked expression that told him she should have been blushing. Hell he half expected her to push him off, to yell, to tell him he’d gone too far.

But there’s no resistance to be found. She was enjoying this just as much as he was, unashamed. “How hard can it be?” She whispered. Honestly there wasn’t enough space in her mind to put more than those few words together.

The ride started. Eda only knows this because the negative space around Jasper's head changed. Something about moving up and down with him so close behind her, zeroed in on her face as he watched it for any signs of apprehension- it was hypothesising, even if he was moving too. Even if they themselves weren’t moving at all, the motion lent itself to… interesting avenues.

She jumped slightly at something beneath her biceps, looking down to find his arms sneak out from under hers. They covered her hands and guided them to the reins, holding them in place for a moment before moving away to arc the outside of her arms. His fingers traced their way from the top of her hands, up her wrists, the outside of her arms, trailing to her shoulders and then back down in slow sweeps. She thinks she felt him kiss the top of her shoulder blade before he half straightened his spine, but it’s so fleeting she couldn’t tell.

“You better watch out,” she said, unable to stop a shiver as he repeated the pattern like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do to her.

He took his time, memorising the curves of her body, not exactly in any rush to untangle them in the haze of their twin desires. Nesting his nose under her ear, letting his lips fall open against the side of her neck (just enough for her to feel the difference), Jasper fought to keep his breath slow and steady so it caressed where the pulse should have been in waves. “Why’s that darlin?”

His voice in her ear did… interesting things. It capped her lungs and twisted her fingers into the cord, made her feel lazy and feline; and she swore she’d never hear the nickname in a completely innocent light again. The rumbling sounded so loud when he was so close, as deep as the sun at midnight, low and brassy, resonating a magma chamber of a volcano, filled entirely with molten rock that buzzed the air alive as it passed over her neck. “We got a wild one… You might fall off.”

She felt a smile curl across his face before it drifted away as he sat upright, stranding her lost at sea in the too few sensations. “Best hold on then, hadn’t you?” He wasn’t touching her skin anymore. Why wasn’t he touching her skin? Needing to feel more of him, Eda slid her hand towards his thigh.

She didn’t even come close before his hand wrapped around her wrist, returning it effortlessly to the reins. “Focus darlin,” he muttered as the carousel reached its max speed of a brain scrambling 6 miles per hour, and re-joined his other hand in skimming his fingers along the length of her arms.

Her life outside of that moment might as well have been spent as a mortal, she remembered it just as dimly.

The first sign he was about to kick up some additional foolishness was his chuckle, the second was when he sampled her emotions with a little more depth, the third was when he spoke impossibly quieter, “still fixin’ to ride a horse?”

Her palm flew to clamp over her airways to keep herself from snorting at the cheesy double entendre, though it did little to stem her mind. After all, if the cowboy rode the horse, who rode the cowboy? What started as a bullet train thought developed into a building laughter, then into full bodied wheezing. She’d been misreading him, stuck in her own narrative.

The way he’d waited for her reaction after creating the tree bridge at the river, his sheepish expression when he’d given her that flower in the meadow, how he insisted on turning his back to allow her to change, how he didn’t call her anything except her name when they weren’t alone, how he’d kept his touches where Alice couldn’t see. She thought he’d been doing it because he was shy, he was embarrassed, he was a bit of a prude. But he wasn’t. He’d been doing it for her benefit, to ensure he didn’t make her uncomfortable- like it was possible for her to be uncomfortable around him.

“I don’t think you’re takin’ this seriously,” he whispered, sensing some epiphany was taking place. “What is it?”

What a thing, to be both starving and empty, to ache for affection, to take the scraps from its table, and yet to run sickly from the feast. To have gone so long hungry, the idea of being full could feel worse than the affliction. Jasper was sweet and mild tempered, stoic. Never could he be called timid, especially in regards to showing his affections. From the beginning he’d done nothing except act chivalrous. It’d taken her so long to realise the truth because he was doing it towards her: previously unthinkable.

“I thought you were shy,” she managed, smiling as the new awareness sunk in. There wasn’t a cell in her body that argued as she let her head fall back onto his shoulder so she could see his face. “It's just occurred, that you’re not.” She wasn’t revealing her throat in submission. He wasn’t pushing her. Eda took immense joy in being unreservedly herself around Jasper, and she had forgotten he practiced the same liberty around her. How odd it was that by avoiding everyone she had learnt what Jasper was like from the inside first and now had to work her way out, to see what others saw. How quick she had been to forget he wasn’t always so cute and cuddly, that he acted that way only for her.

“Well my apologies that I gave off that impression,” Jasper murmured, putting his hand on her cheek, and her eyes closed without her intervention when his thumb brushed along her bottom lip, monitoring the stuttering breath when it made a pass over her cupids bow. “I’m no peacock, but I ain’t shy darlin.”

He hummed lowly against her when she buried her hand in his hair, holding him, just enough so he’d feel it. He leaned into the contact, pushing his chest against her back, driving her forwards ever so slightly, and she let her head roll forwards as Jasper gently took her hand from his hair, welding it to the reins once more. Sometimes Eda thought they were rather like two statues built in the same studio, displayed on opposite sides of a gallery, destined to spend their days yearning.

And then he was gone. The ride had ended. He had gotten off the horse. He was stood beside the head, offering up his hand to help her down, beaming at her, knowing she was nothing short of charmed.

Bastard.

As gracefully as she could when her body had long become uncooperative, she swung her legs to one side and licked her lips, plotting revenge. Just as she’s about to take the offered hand Jasper stepped in front of her so her palm landed on his shoulder.

It’s always a strange experience to look down at Jasper, though she doesn’t get much chance to form any coherent thoughts when he leaned in, his finger tips deliberately grazing her outer thighs on their path to wrap around her hips. Led by instinct alone Eda braced both hands on his shoulders as he pulled her towards him, and off the horse, putting her down with an unbelievable amount of care, as if she might break when her feet hit the ground.

Locking her with his stare, Jasper dragged his hands up as he rose to his full height, resting them on her waist. Even if she wanted to move she couldn’t; her back adhered to the seat. He wasn’t caging her, he was admiring her, as though she was art.

Whatever he was trying to do, it was working.

“Helps it doesn’t matter what the herd thinks.”

She doesn’t compute his words at first, her mind deaf to everything that wasn’t Jasper. When she only blinked in confusion he glanced off to the side – not like he’s just noticing something – hinting for her to get in on the joke, and Eda followed his eyes.

Previously unnoticed, Eda saw they weren’t alone on the ride. A few horses up were two mortals, stumbling off, staring at each other in a dazed state. A little ways ahead were another couple, more flamboyant judging by their game of tonsil tennis – and the attendant very colourfully ordering them to get off the carousel.

Knowing they were next to get shooed off, Eda looked back to Jasper, in awe of the way the lights danced greens and blues around his head, realising he was still being careful, casting his communal emotions far far away from her. In all honestly he didn’t need to, it didn’t matter; she was already there.

“Where to darlin?” He asked causally, stepping away, picking up one of her hands as they fell from his shoulder.

She could only just recall where she was, never mind where she was going. “Hm?”

“I said, where to darlin?” He repeated, perfectly the opposite of dishevelled, as if he’d done nothing more than take a cool evening stroll with her around a park.

Understanding he’d been testing to see how far he could tease her, tempt her without his supernatural influence, she took a slow blink to keep her eyes from rolling at how quick she’d fell for it. Hook line and sinker. “Oh you’re trouble,” she huffed, letting herself be led off the ride.

“At least I played fair.”

And he had. “For a change.” Everything she was feeling was completely her own.

They ended their night on the enormous ferries wheel towering over the carnival with strips of ice white along the rim, creating an illuminating glow around it, glittering off the vampires if they catch it just right.

When it was their turn to hop into their basket-like seat, Jasper nodded for her to go forwards. “Ladies first.”

“Ah so now I’m a lady you want me to do something?” She remarked, getting in, towing him close behind.

She spent a nanosecond or two to regard the cracked leather cushion, the shiny smoothness of the metal tub, the dipped pit at the front of the cart for them to put their feet.

It took them both by surprise when a boy leaned in to pull a metal bar from over their heads, waving his wrist in the danger zone beside Jasper's face. Doing a double take when she saw Jasper's lips begin to open, Eda was about to abandon the human charade totally when he gave what could be misconstrue as a retch, snapping his own head away. It was Jasper's turn to clamp his palm over his airways, his teeth chattering as he tried to resist.

The wheel worked continuously so in a matter of seconds the boy was gone, Jasper gulping the clean oxygen to stop the burning in his throat.

“You’re getting better,” she praised quietly, nodding to herself as they relaxed again; enjoying quality time alone, together.

Unnoticed by Eda, the corner of his mouth tugged up as she searched the view and spotted her case still safely at the top of a tree, her head on a swivel to oversee the town as they rise, stealing a glimpse at Jasper only to meet his gaze.

She glances away, then looked back with a smile, knowing she’d been caught. Being the sole focus of his unfiltered attention again would take some getting used to, not that she was particularly dreading the experience either. “Hey cowboy.”

Mirroring her expression, he whispered, “evenin’ darlin.” Although they had tormented the humans tonight, it had been eye opening for Jasper to see how little he had to screw with their emotions to make them afraid of Eda, getting the feeling she genuinely did want to befriend them when she wasn’t actively aiming to give them heart attacks. “Doesn’t it bother you? That they refuse to see the good in you, that they choose to only be afraid?”

She chuckled lightly, ignoring the possibility that Jasper thought she had good in her. “Why should it?”

He tilted his head at her as he considered why it should, humming quietly as he concluded it didn’t. “We’re all bad in someone’s story I suppose.”

Turning away to search for the horizon as they reached the peak, Eda muttered, “… not everyone’s.”

“What am I in yours?”

“Oh you’re awful in mine. Truly a beast- I digress,” she said, sighing happily to herself when she heard his laughter; a sign all was well in the world.

She was about to ask what she was in his, when the ferries wheel suddenly jerked to a halt, roughly jostling their cart, however even more unexpected was Jasper's hand clutching her upper arm. Throwing a glance at it in inquisitive surprise, Eda mused the why.

The fall wouldn’t hurt her. It would stun the mortals when she without trouble got to her feet for sure, though she’d be fine.

Then it hit: Jasper had been human, or rather, he remembered being human. He remembered human mortality, the fragility. He’d applied it to her. But how? Someone being protective towards her of all people was (to put it plainly) outside the domain of reasonable explanations for Eda, so she justified his actions as a reaction to the influx of panic from the mortals on the ground and those on the ride currently wailing in alarm.

The hand moved with her as Eda, on the edge of her seat, leaned over the bar to peer down at the mortals, investigating what the issue was. It seemed an electrical short circuit was to blame if the three other stalls next to the wheel were any hint, although the boy (understandably ruffled) couldn’t figure out the problem and had resorted to wildly pumping breaks and slamming buttons. They’d be here for a while unless someone intervened.

Nevertheless, the prospect wasn’t a hideous thought when Jasper's arm coiled around her middle, lifting her gently before reeling her backwards with him as he lay down almost, slanted against the corner of their pod.

Tucking herself under his blazer and into his side, half hugging his waist, Eda felt his arm raise to curl around her shoulders, and pressed her cheek against his chest. In the next breath she took came the scent of Jasper: desert rain. Paradise. “Better?” She asked on the exhale, answering her own question.

He simply grunted agreeingly in response, hooking his fingers into her sleeve.

Turning her face the best she could to watch Jasper's head as he scanned around at the city, a slow smile wrote itself across her lips.

She belonged here. Not to him, with him. She wanted to spend eternity like this; partners in crime, as a pair. This wasn’t possession. This was freedom. He was her peace.

Sensing the glow, Jasper peered down at her and after a second of consideration, with such confidence, like he knew what she was thinking (or thinking the same), mumbled, “I think… we’d be a good us.” Then he laughed, feeling the eruption as she understood what he was saying.

Everything was temporary, but maybe, just maybe, if they were exponentially lucky, this wouldn’t be. Mortal men had been nothing but an annoyance and a meal, her own kind mostly the same, had driven her to discover solace in women. This one though, he was ok. “We’d be a wonderful us,” she mouthed.

Jasper lived in a world of other people’s orbits. Experiencing another’s emotions sometimes got him in uncomfortable situations. Anger left him in a bad mood. Lust usually left him feeling violated if he hadn’t been expecting it. Love in itself drew him unconsciously closer to the source, though other times it was quite painful in its rawness. His unrequited love for Maria had made him question his mind, led him to think he was sick, that he was the one having intrusive thoughts. Eda’s gave him a warm sensation around where his heart was. It put a smile on his face, knowing his affections were returned. She found the colours to paint him with when the world had left him grey, showed him hope, that there were other ways to live than in agony; and Jasper was ready to forget past had even happened. He took a second to bask in the joy, and said with ease, “I was planning to get the Volturi to kill me.”

And just like that Eda’s universe went blank, and the only things anchoring her was Jasper’s arm around her shoulders and the shallow movement of his chest. “… What?”

“That’s why I was in that diner. I was weak.” It was only afterwards he realised he hadn’t wanted to die exactly. He’d just wanted his life as he knew it to end, to not be alive or exist anymore. He didn’t want to be in pain anymore. “For the last eighty years I’ve had to hallow myself out, to not feel. To not feel anything. I was dead, inside.” When he had been marching aimlessly around Philadelphia he hadn’t been ready for the torture of feeding, though he had known he wouldn’t be able to resist for much longer. Even with all his practice, their death throes persisted to register. He loathed feeling their pain, their terror. He loathed feeding. “I could feel everything they felt, still. The newborns, the humans I fed on. I felt everything, everyone felt, with exception to me.” Thinking back it didn’t make much sense, but he'd been desperate to avoid that pain. “Then I met you. You showed me there was another way, and I changed my mind.” She had brought him back to life.

“I’m glad you changed your mind.” On purpose. She was going to care about him on purpose, and he was going to know about it. Nothing could convince her otherwise. “And I can’t think of another word that describes you less accurately then weak, Jasper.”

Pivoting her eyes to the constellations, blinking away the glazed horror she was sure was shadowing her features, Eda decided she would not fall into it. “The first time I went star gazing, they were different.” She would walk into it with her eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way. “Not a whole lot. Some were brighter, some dimmer. There used to be more of them.” He would know exactly how valued he was, how cherished he was. He was going to believe it. “I have lived a long life Jas. Centuries without end. I’ve seen many great wonders, known countless honours... But the greatest honour of this tired and ancient soul, has been the privilege of fighting beside you, knowing you... You don’t know how happy I am that I’ve lived long enough to meet you.”

Lifting her head, she saw she had his undivided attention, and leaned in, softly kissing his jaw before leaning away to watch his expression, trying to rid herself of the stinging thought that there was a possibility she wouldn’t have met him at all, that he could have died without her ever knowing.

They’re helpless to stay like that, watching the other, admiring the view, stuck in a feedback loop of their own making, not that Eda minded; able to feel her own emotions fuelling it as Jasper reflected them amplified, absorbing them back and pumping them out again magnified.

She’s sure this is what dreaming felt like, and her head floated down to lay on his chest, ignorant to anything other than his hand under her ear as it splayed across her neck and he coiled himself around her.

Jasper pressed his lips to her forehead, burying his nose into her hair, flooding his senses with her and keeping them still as the ride gave a harsh throw, resuming its rotation.

When their cart reached the bottom the boy barely acknowledged them, appearing bored and uninterested, and they go round again. Even without being able to see his face, Eda knew it had Jasper written all over it.

Eventually they untangle, knowing they can’t stay there for eternity and walk off into the forest holding hands.

The only real tragedy of the night was that Eda completely forgot about the camera in Jasper's pocket. By the time it was discovered he had already taken off his costume and (being the wet blanket he was) refused to put it back on just for a picture of something they’d both remember for the rest of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jasper is a Gryffindor. Eda is a Hufflepuff.
> 
> Was this chapter as steamy as I thought it was? And was Jasper's reason for being in the diner a plot twist or did y'all been knew? Genuinely asking because it was a plot twist for me


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